Need
by iluvfanfics1
Summary: Their nightmares and demons bound them together. Their love helped them to survive. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley knew they needed each other the trouble was in admitting it.
1. Chapter 1 It Began With a Rescue

Author's Note: Well, this is what I've been working on while you were all waiting for next chapter of The Prodigal Daughter. I DO apologize for the long wait on that but now that this fic is finished (and it is completely finished btw), I'll be returning to TPD with bells on. I'd like to explain just a bit about this story before you read it: First of all, it completely consumed me. It's also a different Harry and Ginny than I've ever written before. The characters are loosely based on (and I know this is silly but I couldn't help it) the characters Starbuck and Apollo on Battlestar Galactica. I don't know if anyone watches that show but I love it and so some of the scenes are from storylines on the show--of course they've been adapted to fit Harry and Ginny. In this story, Harry and Ginny become best friends who aren't afraid to fight and hurt each other because they can't hurt anyone else and they know it won't run the other off. They have been so affected by Voldemort that they reach for each other b/c no one else understands. The only people they can consistently rely on is each other and this forms a friendship that weathers many storms. They are also in love with each other but are afraid of taking that final step b/c they're afraid of loosing each other and what they have. They fight, they hurt each other, they make mistakes, they run from each other but they always come back.

Did I mention it was AU?

But it's not meant to be an epic retelling. So some of the chapters are short; some parts will go very fast and others are completely glossed over. This does not mean events didn't happen, but the reader should assume that anything that happened in the books that is not addressed in the story, still happened. I've just...tweaked it a bit.

I hope you enjoy it and as always, look forward to your thoughts. Happy reading!

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An extra-special thanks to my beta Indie, who, as always, makes a diamond out of the rough.

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_Prologue_:

_He could not have anticipated what the results would be when he descended into the Chamber of Secrets to rescue Ginny Weasley. He didn't know he would be saving her soul—he thought he was going to rescue his best friend's little sister. He didn't know that Tom Riddle had possessed her and that by saving her soul it would forge an understood bond between _their_ souls. It was only later, much later, that he realised it was impossible to save someone's soul without loosing a bit of your own._

Chapter 1

Harry Potter watched anxiously as Molly Weasley led her youngest daughter from Professor Dumbledore's office.

"Is she going to be all right, Professor?" Harry swung back around to find the Headmaster's blue eyes twinkling at him over the glasses perched at the edge of nose.

"With time," the Professor said gently. "I think she will get better." He pulled out his wand and conjured a china tea set complete with an already steaming teapot. He poured two cups, added a lump of sugar to each and handed one to Harry.

"Harry, do you have any thoughts as to how Tom Riddle lured Ginny into the Chamber of Secrets?" 

Harry shook his head and took a sip of the tea. "No, Professor."

Dumbledore ignored his own cup of tea and sat back in his chair. He steepled his fingers together and regarded Harry with a thoughtful expression. "I believe he used the diary to possess her. He took over her mind and body and forced her to control a creature that could have easily killed her friends."

Harry put down his teacup.

"I suspect an experience like that leaves a mark, Harry."

Harry's hand went involuntarily to the scar on his forehead.

"No, not a physical mark," Dumbledore said. "Something deeper, I believe. A psychological mark of some sort. He tried to take her soul, Harry—something like leaves…different kinds of scars."

"I'm not sure I know what you're getting at, Professor," Harry said slowly.

Dumbledore reached out and grabbed a biscuit off the plate. He sat back in his chair and stared at it, turning the cookie slowly in his fingers. "I know you feel responsible for what happened to Ginny. You feel that Tom Riddle would not have used her to lure you down there if you hadn't been around. Am I right?"

Harry swallowed. The thought _had_ occurred to him.

"So if you feel guilty for that, perhaps you can imagine how Ginny must feel knowing that Tom Riddle used her to set a Basilisk, a monster, on students. Thankfully no one died; but that will probably not make her feel better."

"How did he do it, Professor? I don't understand how he used her."

Dumbledore smiled but there was no mirth behind his eyes. "I think that is probably the worst part of everything, Harry. Voldemort was able to use Ginny—not just because she wrote in the diary, but because she poured her soul into it. She wrote about everything, told him all her hopes, fears, dreams, insecurities. She was her own worse enemy, and Tom Riddle took full advantage. "

The professor shook his head. "I can't even imagine what she must have experienced—to be so close to Voldemort like that—to be a part of him. To have the most significant experience of your life tied up with someone like that…"

His voice trailed off but a sudden understanding swept over Harry. The same thing had happened to _him_; he suddenly felt sick. Everything important in his very short life (with the exception of meeting Ron and Hermione) had been because of Voldemort: his parents' deaths, finding the Sorcerer's Stone last year, watching Professor Quirrell die, killing the Basilisk…

"Unfortunately, Ginny will blame herself more than is necessary. There was certainly nothing she could have done. But she won't see it that way—she won't see that Voldemort is entirely to blame."

Harry shuddered. He could almost feel the weight of Voldemort's tyranny in the room. Even though he wasn't even fully formed, the dark wizard still ruined everything he touched. And now Ginny would never be the same. Her life had been changed as irrevocably as Harry's had been the night the killing curse had rebounded from him and struck Voldemort instead.

"What is it that you expect me to do?" Harry was unsure but determined.

"I simply mean that perhaps Miss Weasley could use a friend. Her family will try to help her of course, but it will be difficult for them to understand exactly what she has been through. It would be helpful if she had a friend who knew what it was like to be marked by Voldemort. Someone who also shared a kind of connection with Tom Riddle."

"You-you think Ginny shares a connection with Tom Riddle now?" Harry pushed his teacup away. Although his mouth was suddenly dry he was not thirsty.

Dumbledore looked at him sadly. "I do not know, Harry. I know that he tried to use her soul for his own purposes and even though you rescued her in time, there is no telling what he left inside of her."

Harry let the Headmaster's words sink in. Dumbledore had already explained that when Voldemort had tried to kill him as a baby that he had left a mark in Harry. It was why he could speak parseltongue and it was why his scar hurt sometimes. Because—although Voldemort did not have a physical body—he was still out there somewhere.

"What-what can I do, Professor?" Harry wanted to help but he wasn't sure how he could do that. He'd rescued Ginny purely through luck. He really had no idea how to help her. And he barely knew her. She was Ron's sister who had a crush on him that seemed to embarrass her. They'd never even had a conversation.

"I think you can start by trying to be her friend," his Professor replied. "If I'm right, she will need friends."

Harry nodded. His eyes rested on the sword he'd used to kill the Basilisk. It was still bloody. The image of Ginny lying pale and motionless on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets flashed across his brain. He twitched.

"You know, Ginny must be an exceptionally powerful witch to have fought Tom Riddle's possession for nearly a year," Dumbledore remarked. "Yet another thing you have in common."

"What is that, Professor?"

Dumbledore took a sip of his now tepid tea. "Voldemort has made you both stronger. Not just because he may have left a bit of his magic inside you but because you both survived."

There was a knock at the door. "Ah, that will be Lucius Malfoy, I believe."

Harry tossed and turned in his bed trying to find a comfortable position. Dumbledore's words from the other night kept running through his head. Tom Riddle had _possessed_ Ginny. And what's worse, he'd been doing it on and off all year. How could Harry have been so blind? He should have known there was something funny about that memory Tom Riddle showed him.

Throwing back the covers, Harry got out of bed and grabbed his invisibility cloak. He made his way silently down the stairs leading to the common room. Someone was already there. The fire was already going and a small figure was huddled on the rug in front of it. A figure with long red hair.

"Ginny?" Harry stepped off the last step and walked over to the armchair closest to the fire. "Are you okay?"

She gave a sharp laugh but remained staring at the fire. "Yeah. I'm fine, Harry. Just great. Never better."

Harry supposed it _had_ been a stupid question. "Right. Sorry. Bad question."

She didn't respond and they sat in silence for awhile. Then: "I should thank you, Harry—for saving me."

He tried to smile but it didn't seem like one of those moments. "You're welcome. I-I'm sorry…you know, about everything."

She smiled faintly at him. "Thanks. What you and Ron did—that was very brave. I'm sorry that I almost got you killed. I've been so stupid—writing in that diary and everything."

"Ginny, it wasn't your fault. It was Voldemort."

"Still, people almost died and it was because of me." She said the last word softly as if she still couldn't believe it.

"Everyone is going to be fine. Dumbledore said the mandrake juice is almost ready. And it wasn't your fault."

"Would you feel that way?" She turned wide eyes that were filled with tears on him. "If it had been you, would you feel like it wasn't your fault?"

Harry looked into her brown eyes and found he couldn't lie. "No," he said, honestly. "I would blame myself. Just like you are."

She nodded and looked back at the fire. Harry wondered what he should say next. He wasn't very good at comforting people, let alone girls. And she didn't really seem to be asking for anything. Still, he felt like he should do _something_…

He slid off the armchair and sat down next to her on the rug. He pulled his arms around his knees, mimicking her position. And he sat with her without speaking until the sun came up and the fire died.


	2. Chapter 2 New Friends

Chapter 2

Ginny climbed the last few steps and, panting with the exertion, rested against the nearest limestone wall. She'd done it. She'd climbed the tallest pyramid, and she'd beat every one of her brothers to the top. She looked back over her shoulder and saw a line of redheads navigating the rocky terrain behind her. She wasn't sure what had driven her to rush ahead; except that the physical activity strained her muscles and shut down her brain. So that instead of hearing the memory of Tom Riddle's voice in her head, she measured one breath in and one breath out. Instead of closing her eyes and seeing the images of a giant stone statue of Salazar Slytherin's face staring down at her, she counted her heart rate and bet against herself to see how fast she could get it going before she felt like passing out.

Her parents had brought the family to Egypt to visit her eldest brother Bill. But she wasn't stupid (no matter what Tom Riddle had said) and she knew it was more for her than because they'd won some silly contest. She'd always been closest to Bill, and Ginny's parents were hoping he could bring her out of the funk she was in.

What did they expect? She'd spent a whole year fighting against Tom Riddle. There were whole pieces of her memory that were missing but she knew from her nightmares what she'd done during those times. She'd killed Hagrid's chickens, written on the school walls in blood, and set a Basilisk free to murder students. The fact that no one had actually died seemed immaterial at this point.

Sometimes she imagined that she could still hear him; not the memory of his voice, but his actual voice. It whispered to her on the wind and in the fog. She saw shadows where they shouldn't be and often something dark flitted by in her peripheral vision; when she would turn to look, it was gone.

Ginny wasn't stupid. She knew Voldemort, Tom Riddle, whatever the hell his name, was out there. He was waiting, biding his time. And she had a sinking feeling that although it had only been a memory of him that possessed her through the diary—the real version would eventually find out about her and come looking.

So what did her family want from her? Did they think she could just go back to the way she was before? Like nothing had happened? They didn't understand and she doubted they ever would. She felt…dirty, used, and tainted. She felt harsh and every time she looked at her parents and older brothers she sensed that she understood something basic about life they'd never meant for her to know.

Life is hard, evil never really goes away and sometimes people change…even though they don't want to.

Harry heard the familiar tones of Ron and Hermione arguing below him on the first floor and grinned. He'd missed even their bickering. He paused on the steps and watched his two best friends argue about something he was sure had never mattered in the first place. He didn't care though—it was familiar.

"You realise this is some sort of twisted version of flirting don't you?"

Harry looked to his right to see Ginny watching Ron and Hermione with a disgusted look on her face.

"Ginny!" He said in surprise. "I didn't see you there. How are you?"

Ginny's upper lip twisted when Harry said he hadn't seen her but she supposed that was nothing new. He had never really seen her. Well, except when she'd been half-dead in the Chamber of Secrets. And then of course, there had been that night in front of the fire when he'd sat with her all night long after she'd been too afraid to go back to sleep. That had been odd, if not a little sweet. She supposed he felt a little responsible for her after rescuing her so dramatically.

Harry felt like he was rambling. Ginny had an odd look on her face and he felt…awkward. Over the summer, he'd thought a lot about that night in the Gryffindor Common Room when they'd stayed up all night. They hadn't spoken hardly at all, just watched the fire and the sunrise together until she'd stood up and thanked him before going back upstairs.

"Good summer, then?" he repeated weakly. He came down the last few steps and joined her on the first floor. He chanced a look at Ron and Hermione to see if they could be interrupted but they seemed pretty involved in whatever they were arguing about.

"Wait a minute," Harry frowned, suddenly remembering Ginny's first statement. "What do you mean 'flirting'?"

Ginny smiled and for the first time Harry noticed how much her eyes sparkled when she did that.

"Ron and Hermione," she said in a stage whisper and motioning towards them with her head. "They think they're fighting but they're really flirting with each other. They're attracted to each other but it embarrasses them so they fight instead. That way they still have a reason to talk to each other. See?"

No, he didn't actually. He looked back at his two friends, both of whose faces were red with anger. Ron's face was nearly purple. He was shouting at Hermione who was jabbing him in the chest with her finger.

"See," Ginny giggled. "They even find excuses to touch each other."

Harry looked back at her skeptically but she just raised one eyebrow at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

"That's crazy," he said bluntly. "I think they'd rather kill each other than flirt."

Ginny shook her head at him. "You'll see. Those two will wind up getting married."

"Married?" Harry was aghast. The idea of his two best friends together…that way…it was disgusting. He shuddered and Ginny laughed, her long red hair brushing the small of back.

"The idea doesn't appeal to you?" she asked, grinning widely at him.

"It grosses me out," he said frankly. "And scares me a bit too. Hermione can be wicked with a wand. I'm worried for Ron."

She laughed again, then placed her thumb and forefinger in her mouth and blew sharply. An ear-splitting whistle sounded and distracted Ron and Hermione enough to notice that Harry was standing there.

"Oi!" Ginny said loudly. "Pay attention to someone else other than each other!"

Ron's ears turned bright red but he greeted Harry enthusiastically. Hermione threw her arms around him and he hugged her awkwardly before pushing her back gently.

They spent the rest of the day in Diagon Alley. Ron and Harry spent a long time lingering in the Quidditch store and then had to practically drag Hermione out of the bookstore. They met up with Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley later at the Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream shop and it was only while Ron and Hermione were engaged in another argument that Harry got another chance to speak with Ginny.

"I've asked you twice now and you've yet to answer me," he said in a low voice while she licked at her ice cream cone. "How was your summer?"

She hesitated. "It was fine," she said slowly. "We went to Egypt to visit Bill and I spent a lot time climbing pyramids. Fred and George tried to lock Percy in a tomb but Bill got him out. Mum was furious."

Harry laughed and shot a glance at Percy who was talking to a girl with pretty, curly brown hair. He was showing off the Head Boy badge he'd gotten. He looked back at Ginny. What he _really_ wanted to ask was how she was doing after nearly dying in the Chamber but he sensed this wasn't the time or place to bring it up. Dumbledore's words about Ginny needing a friend who understood what she'd been through still haunted him. He wasn't sure what he could do about that, or if she'd even welcome it, but he was determined to try. He owed her after Voldemort had used her to lure him down into the Chamber.

"How was your summer?" she asked, resuming the licking of her ice cream cone.

He shrugged. "Not as good as yours. I blew up my Uncle's sister at the end and took the Knight Bus here. I've spent the past two weeks hanging out at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Tried any Firewhiskey yet?" she asked casually.

"What's Firewhiskey?"

"Sorry," Ginny said apologetically. "I forget you didn't grow up in the wizard world. It's a type of whiskey wizards drink. It's supposed to make you feel like your insides are on fire."

Harry wrinkled his forehead. "Doesn't sound very pleasant," he commented. "Why would anyone want to drink that?"

"To forget things, I suppose," she said tonelessly, her expression going carefully blank.

Harry looked at her sharply and she turned to meet his gaze. There was something in her eyes that chilled him. He ignored the fact that for the first time since he met her, she was actually talking to him and not blushing or running away. Instead, he saw a hard, blazing look on her face that led him to believe her summer had _not_ been as easy as she'd indicated.

"Ginny-" he began in a low voice, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by her mother's announcement that they all had to be measured for dress robes.

Ginny got to her feet reluctantly and followed everyone to Madame Malkin's where she stood patiently, her arms out to her sides while her mother and the saleswoman discussed her "burgeoning assets" and how best to design the school robes so they would grow with her. It was, Ginny decided, a rather humiliating experience and she was glad Fred, George, Ron and Harry had already gotten their robes and left with her father to go onto the magical pets shop.

Later that evening, at supper, Ginny noticed her father pull Harry aside for what looked like a serious conversation. Ginny's heart sank as she realised what her father was probably telling Harry. The Wizengamot was holding a secret inquiry into the events of last year and Ginny and Harry were expected to be present at a hearing the day after tomorrow. The inquiry was secret because the Ministry was afraid parents wouldn't want to send their students to Hogwarts if the full story got around. At this point, no one but Ginny, Harry, her family, Hermione and Dumbledore knew that Tom Riddle had used the diary to actually possess her. She supposed it would probably come out at the inquiry.

Harry's eyes found hers and she felt herself falter a moment under their intensity before she returned his gaze and he looked back to her father. She was just dipping into her pudding when Harry pulled out a chair and sat next down next to her.

He watched her silently and then grabbed a spoon from the table and used it to swipe a bite from the dessert in front of her. She looked at him outraged but he just chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before saying: "Why didn't you tell me?"

She dropped her gaze back down to the table and shrugged before taking another bite. "I wasn't sure they'd make you testify and I didn't think you'd care otherwise."

Harry took another bite and considered her. He supposed he deserved that. He'd never shown much of an interest in her before. But it still stung, and he wasn't sure why.

"Why would you think I wouldn't care? I was there too, you know."

Ginny looked at him searchingly. "Unless you had to testify, it doesn't really concern you, Harry. There was no need to bother you."

Harry's jaw tightened and he swiped another bite of her dessert. "You don't think that a Ministry inquiry into what happened in the Chamber of Secrets concerns me? In any way?"

"I didn't say that," she retorted. "I just meant that originally it was me they wanted to talk to. There was no need to tell anybody else."

"I see." He fell silent and took another bite of her dessert.

"Quit that!" she snapped at him. "Get your own."

"I've already eaten mine," he pointed out. "And you never finish your dessert anyway."

"How do you know that?" she asked, curious in spite of her irritation.

He shrugged. "Dunno. Guess I just noticed it. Maybe at Hogwarts."

"That doesn't mean I want to share your germs," she said crossly. But she used her spoon to section off another bite of the dessert and pushed the rest towards him. "Here, you can finish it."

"Thanks," he said. "Your mum will be happy. She says I need fattening up."

"Yeah, well you can tell her I did my part then." Ginny stood up and pushed back her chair.

"Where're you going?" Harry asked, his mouth full of chocolate cake.

"Bed," Ginny said. She pushed her chair against the table and stepped back.

"Bed?" Harry repeated. He looked at his wrist. "It's not 9 o'clock yet!"

Ginny smiled faintly at him and decided to be honest. "I don't sleep very well anymore," she said frankly. "It helps to go to bed early."

Harry's mouth closed at that and he nodded, a light of understanding dawning in his eyes. "See you tomorrow then."

"Night, Harry." Ginny smiled at him and tried not to feel his eyes on her as she mounted the steps, headed towards sleep and the nightly whispers of Tom Riddle.

Harry and Ginny sat in a darkened corridor of the Ministry of Magic's basement. When the Ministry said they were conducting a secret inquiry, they meant it, Harry decided. His arrival had gone unnoticed and he, along with Ginny and Mr. Weasley had been quickly ushered past a monstrosity of a statue in the Ministry atrium and into an elevator that had taken them directly to the bottom floor. Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley were currently being interviewed by the Wizagenmot. Both had said they were hopeful that neither Ginny nor Harry would have to testify, as they were both minors. Mr. Weasley hoped to speak for Ginny and Dumbledore for Harry.

Ginny was sitting a few feet down the bench from him and seemed to be a little nervous—though he doubted she would admit to it. When Mr. Weasley had told Harry about the hearing he had looked at Ginny with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Would she be forced to relive everything? He'd tried yesterday to make more of an effort with her and while they were definitely talking more, they were mostly awkward conversations. Ginny seemed…standoffish most of the time; and not just with Harry. The rest of her family seemed to be cutting her a wide berth as well. Harry had seen Mrs. Weasley look at her daughter with anxiety in her eyes and Fred and George had made it a point to act especially silly around her. She'd laughed and joked with them but Harry had seen the wariness in her eyes when she caught him watching her.

It _had_ irritated him that she hadn't mentioned the hearing to him when he'd asked her about her summer. Even though he knew he deserved to be ignored by her, he couldn't help but feel the experience in the Chamber should at least mean they could be friends now. She didn't blush whenever he was around anymore but she didn't make it any easier to talk to her. He sighed and decided give it another go.

"Are you scared?" he asked quietly.

She stayed staring at the floor and he wasn't sure she would reply until: "Do you think I should be?"

"No," Harry said decisively. "Dumbledore and your dad will take care of it."

"Do you know what I've decided, Harry?" She looked up at him then and he could see something harsh in her eyes. _What was it about her eyes that were always so expressive?_

"I've decided that I'm not going to let anything connected with Tom Riddle scare me ever again," she said fiercely.

"This hearing," she gestured to the closed door, "all right, it makes me a bit nervous but I'm not afraid of them. Tom Riddle nearly killed me and he used me to nearly kill others. What can they do that would be worse then that?" She shook her head emphatically. "I'm not going to be afraid of him anymore. I'm through with being timid little Ginny Weasley who was so weak that an enchanted diary was able to take over her mind."

Harry hadn't thought of her as weak—even if Tom Riddle had managed to possess her. Dumbledore said she must be remarkably strong to have fought him for so long.

"You know," he began, "Professor Dumbledore told me you must be a really strong witch to have fought Riddle all year." He rested his head against the wall.

She looked taken aback. "Really? Well, that's um…" she smiled at him weakly. "I didn't feel strong."

"I guess not," he conceded. "Doesn't make it less true though."

Ginny mimicked his position on the bench and fell silent.

"I know what you mean, you know," Harry said suddenly. She turned to look at him, propping both legs up on the bench between them. "Voldemort killed my parents, and he's tried to kill me three times since then. I reckon once you've faced that, there's no point in being scared of anything else."

"But you aren't scared of anything, are you?" she said softly. "You fought him for the Sorcerer's Stone and followed me into the Chamber when you thought a Basilisk had taken me down there."

"I don't see how anything could be more scary than that snake," Harry said lightly. "Once I saw that-" he broke off as her face went pale. "Bugger Ginny, I didn't mean to-"

"No," she said, taking a deep breath. "No. Don't be sorry. You're right. It WAS a scary snake. I still have nightmares about it."

Harry nodded. He'd suspected as much. "Me too," he said shortly. "They're rather horrible actually."

"Everyone seems to be afraid to talk to me about," Ginny said quietly. "My parents, my brothers. I think they're afraid to bring up bad memories." She laughed sharply. "I haven't told them they needn't worry about bringing up memories that have never gone away."

"I don't mind, you know, talking about it with you," she said. "You were there after all."

Harry nodded and smiled at her. She smiled back and he felt like maybe they reached a tenuous point in their budding friendship.

"Ginny," he said after another silence. "You know what you said about working to not be weak anymore?"

"Yeah?"

"I wouldn't mind helping you with that."

A surprised look appeared on her face and she looked back at him, a smile quirking at the corner of her mouth.

"Harry Potter, are you trying to be my friend?"

He nodded ruefully. "Maybe if I'd tried last year, you wouldn't have felt the need to write in that diary."

Ginny's face softened. "You can't blame yourself for that. Girls write in diaries all the time. Even if we had been friends, I still might have written in it." She looked at him searchingly. "Is that the only reason you want to be my friend? Because you feel guilty?"

"No!" Harry was startled she'd even reached such a conclusion. "That's not what I mean at all. I just meant-," he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, "I just meant that when two people go through what we went through in that Chamber, I expect they should get to know each other a little better."

She looked thoughtful for a moment and then stuck out her hand. "Agreed. Friends, then?"

He smiled, relieved, and shook her outstretched hand. "Friends. Brilliant."

She smiled back and they fell silent again, occasionally looking anxiously towards the courtroom doors. Harry felt like he'd accomplished something significant but he wasn't quite sure how to start the next phase of their friendship.

"Ginny," he asked suddenly, "if you're not afraid of Tom Riddle anymore, what _are_ you afraid of?"

She kept her eyes on the doors to the courtroom for a few moments before meeting his questioning gaze.

"A cage."

Harry nodded slowly. And _that_, he decided, told him more about Ginny Weasley then he'd ever expected to learn.


	3. Chapter 3 Betrayal is Not an Option

Chapter 3

Brilliant didn't even begin to describe Ginny Weasley, Harry decided two days later. She was feisty, funny, smart and, despite what she thought, not weak at all. Regardless of Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley's best efforts, Ginny and Harry had both wound up testifying at the Ministry hearing. Ginny had answered each question clearly and concisely with only the occasional waver to her voice. Harry had listened, fascinated, as she told the story from her point of view and he was struck again with the truth of Dumbledore's words. She appeared to have fought Tom Riddle's possession very hard. Indeed, it was only after the whole year that she totally succumbed. Ginny described how she'd lost time and would wake up in her dorm room, covered in blood and chicken feathers with no idea of how they'd gotten there.

Even with Dumbledore and Harry's testimony that the diary belonged to Tom Riddle who later became Lord Voldemort, the Wizagenmot refused to acknowledge that she had been possessed by a relic of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They declared instead that she had been the unfortunate victim of dark magic and claimed that since the diary could not be produced, there was no way to determine that it had belonged to Tom Riddle. Ginny had sat in her chair, an angry look on her face and had even opened her mouth to speak but a stern look from her father made her close it with a disgruntled snap.

The trip back to Hogwarts was a lot more fun with Ginny in their compartment. She teased Ron and Hermione until Harry thought his sides would burst. When Malfoy came in, she sent him on his way with a scathing comment that turned the Slytherin's face bright red and that even Crabbe and Goyle snickered at until Malfoy silenced them with a look.

Everything was going great until the Dementors came looking for Sirius Black. Then the screams of his mother echoed in his head and he passed out. Ginny was looking decidedly pale as well but he was too concerned with his own reaction to the Dementors to think about what she might have been hearing in her head. He cursed himself for his thoughtlessness much later when he noticed she was just picking at her food at the opening feast. Her face looked strained and she was gripping her fork with a white-knuckled fist.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly from across the table.

She put down her fork and glared at him. "I'm fine."

He raised his eyebrows at her but didn't push the issue. He broached the subject again when they were making their way to the common room. He lagged behind Ron and Hermione and fell into step with Ginny.

"Ginny, are you sure you're okay?" he asked in a low voice.

"Bloody hell, I hate it when people ask me that. I am fine," she said through gritted teeth. "Why do you keep asking me that?"

"I thought maybe the Dementors," he hesitated. "Well, I thought they might have brought up some bad memories."

"I can handle it, Harry," she said shortly. "I wasn't the one fainting after all."

Harry felt like she'd slapped him. "I see. Well, sorry to be such a bother." He sped up and joined Ron and Hermione again. Inside he was seething. He'd just been trying to be nice. They'd agreed to be friends after all.

Harry didn't talk again to Ginny that night or the rest of the week. He didn't avoid her exactly, but he didn't go out of his way to speak to her. She didn't try very hard to talk to him either but several times he thought she looked like she wanted to say something and then changed her mind.

Saturday night Harry woke up in a sudden sweat. He'd been having a nightmare but he couldn't remember it after he woke up. He got out of bed to get a drink of water and, deciding sleep was probably not an option anymore, grabbed his invisibility cloak and headed for the common room. He stopped short when he saw Ginny lying on the couch in front of the fire. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked exhausted.

"Ginny?" He stepped around to the front of the couch so she could see him.

Ginny looked up and smiled slightly at him. "Well, this is familiar."

He grinned back. "Yeah. Can I sit down?"

She nodded and Harry took the closest armchair. They sat in silence for a while and Harry felt his eyes begin to droop closed.

"I heard Tom," she said suddenly.

He looked at her as she pushed herself up and sat cross-legged on the couch. "When?"

"On the train," she said impatiently. "The Dementors. You asked if I was all right. I wasn't. I heard Tom, when the Dementor came into the compartment."

Harry wasn't sure if he should provide sympathy or what. She sounded very matter-of-fact. As if she was stating the answer to an arithmancy problem.

"What did he say?" he finally decided on.

She shrugged. "The usual. I'm a silly stupid girl who no one cares about. But it was just so real…" she shivered.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I…I heard a woman scream. I think it was my mum. You know, just before Voldemort killed her."

The colour washed from Ginny's face as she stared at him in shock. "That-that's much worse than mine. Harry, I'm so sorry." Her sincerity surprised him. She was earnest and sympathetic but she didn't threaten to collapse into tears or try to hug him. It was…refreshing.

"We'll call it even," he decided. "They're both pretty bad." That earned him a small smile and he noticed that when she smiled, she didn't look so tired.

"You want to hear something weird?" he asked impulsively.

"Sure," she said.

"It was the first time I've heard my mum's voice," Harry said slowly. "I…it was nice," he finished sheepishly. "Even if it was awful. I don't have any memories of them and well..." he folded his hands in his lap. "I think that might be the only time I ever get to hear her. Do you think that's strange?"

Ginny sighed heavily. "No," she said gently. "I think it's natural to want to know what she sounded like. I would want to know too. But Harry, I don't think you should go hang out with the Dementors just so you can hear her again."

"I wasn't planning on it," he assured her. "But it's odd, isn't it? That something so awful like a Dementor gave that to me."

She titled her head and looked at him. He could see the flames from the fire reflecting in her eyes. "It's kind of ironic, I guess." She looked down at her lap and began to pick at a loose thread on her pyjama trousers.

"Harry, I owe you an apology for snapping at you the other day. That was a horrible thing to say."

She looked up at him, regret on her face. "I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it but I could never get you alone. I was just upset and well…I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

Harry looked at her sternly. "Ginny, we are supposed to be friends. If you need to talk to me alone, you just have to ask. Ron and Hermione and I aren't attached at the hip." He paused. "And apology accepted. I reckon I was a being a bit pushy. I know I hate it when people ask me how I am doing all the time."

"I know you're not attached at the hip to Ron and Hermione but don't you think they'd like to be to each other?" she waggled her eyebrows at him suggestively.

He groaned. "You are disturbing, you know that right?"

"I'm just trying to get you prepared for when it finally happens," she said firmly. "Once they get together they're going to want some time alone, you know."

Harry's face must have looked stricken because her eyes went wide and she stammered, "I mean, well, they'll be a couple and all. But I don't think they'll stop being your friends. They'll still want to be with you."

Harry swallowed. "I hadn't thought about that, but I suppose you're right. They'll probably want to be alone."

"They'll still want to spend time with you," she insisted. "Not much will change."

Harry sighed and looked into the fire. "But some of it will change." He ran a hand through his hair and tugged on it.

"At least you're admitting to the possibility now. I suppose you'll just have to get a girlfriend yourself then," she said nonchalantly. "That way you won't be alone."

Harry looked at her blankly. "No, thanks. Who'd want to date the Boy-Who-Lived? Or, perhaps it's better to say, who'd want to date the Boy-Who-Nearly-Snuffs-It-Every-June?"

Ginny rolled her eyes but let the matter drop. "All right then, how 'bout this. When Ron and Hermione finally get their heads out of their arses, you come find me and we'll hang out. In fact, we'll prank 'em until they stop snogging."

Harry's face twisted at the thought of Ron and Hermione snogging and Ginny threw a pillow at him. "Grow up, Potter. People snog you know."

"As long as they don't snog in front of me," Harry shivered. "It'd be like watching a brother and sister kissing each other."

"Well, I've seen my brothers kiss their girlfriends," Ginny said, "and although I can confirm it is indeed disgusting, it can be quite interesting once you get past the ookiness."

"When Ron and Hermione start snogging, I'm not getting close enough to see anything," Harry said decisively.

Ginny smiled and stretched back out on the couch, her head pillowed on the armrest. "You know, one of these days, you're going to find someone you want to snog and you're going to snog her everywhere and I'm going to remind you of this discussion." She looked over at Harry, a sly grin on her face. "Unless it's a 'he' you'd want to be snogging."

Harry threw the pillow back at her and she laughed before using it to prop up her head.

"I'm going to back to bed," he announced. "If the thought of Ron and Hermione snogging doesn't make my nightmares pale by comparison, nothing will." He hesitated as he passed the couch. "Will you be all right down here? I could stay, you know."

Ginny titled her head up so she could see his face. "I'll be fine, Harry. Get some sleep."

"Night, Ginny." 

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry watched with mixed feelings as Ron and Hermione left for Hogsmeade, shooting the occasional anxious look back at him. He couldn't blame them for leaving him. It wasn't their fault his Uncle Vernon had refused to sign the release form. It wasn't their fault Harry had lost his temper and blew up Aunt Marge, thereby ruining the deal he'd had with Vernon to sign the form.

But dammit, he wanted to go too. He kicked a stone in frustration as he made his way back into the school. Sighing heavily, he trudged up the steps, intending to go back to the tower where he could drown his sorrows in homework. He stopped short when he ran into Fred and George who eyed him mischievously before handing him an old ratty piece of parchment.

"What's this?" he asked, turning the parchment over in his hands.

"This," Fred said dramatically, "is the key to our success."

"Found it our second year, rifling through Filch's office while we were in detention," George said. "Go on, have a look at it."

"Um…it just looks like an old piece of parchment," said Harry, dumbfounded. This was the secret to the Weasley twins' success?

"Oh, sorry," said George. He took out his wand. "You have to know the password." He tapped the parchment with his wand while intoning, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Harry watched in amazement as lines began spreading across the page. The lines formed words, then shapes and eventually it resembled…a map?

"Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs present the Mauraders' Map," Harry read out loud. "But who are they?"

"No idea," Fred said, glancing at his brother. "But we owe them a lot. They're our heroes."

Harry gasped in astonishment when he realized what the map was. "This is Hogwarts!" he exclaimed. The map showed the Great Hall, all the classrooms, the dormitories and places Harry had never even been in the castle. He looked closer and noticed that it also identified people in the school. It was a live representation of the happenings at the school. 

"Wicked," he breathed.

George grinned evilly. "Now you see why we've been so successful."

Fred cleared his throat importantly. "Harry, my boy, we've decided to pass on this gift to the younger generation."

"We know you'll use it for the greater good," George added. 

"Pranking."

"Sneaking."

"General mayhem."

"Hogsmeade?"

"But how-" Harry looked up at them. "How does this help me get into Hogsmeade?"

"Ah," Fred said, and he rubbed his hands together. "The best part." He pointed to a few places on the map. "Look, the map shows secret passageways in the school. This one," he tapped the map, "is the fastest way into Hogsmeade. We've used it loads of times. You think all that Butterbeer after a Quidditch game appears out of nowhere?''

"Cool," Harry breathed again. "But wait, I can't take this, it's yours—what will you do?"

"Please," George waved a hand dismissively. "We've memorized just about everything on that map anyway. And we've got other ways of getting around the school without getting caught."

Harry eyed them speculatively but decided he really didn't want to know. "Well, thanks then. I mean it." He was strangely touched; that Fred and George would give away one of their greatest secrets so that he could have a trip to Hogsmeade. It was very…perceptive of them.

"Oh and don't forget. If you ever want to turn the map off, you just tap it with your wand like so," George tapped the parchment, "and say, 'mischief managed.'"

"Run along now, and make us proud," Fred said, waving his hands merrily. They turned as one to follow the rest of their classmates to Hogsmeade.

"Guys," Harry said. They stopped and looked back at him. "Thanks, I really mean it. This-" he waved the map, "this is great."

"Don't get all gushy on us, Potter." Fred and George smiled at him, identical twin grins, before walking through the front doors.

Harry didn't wait around. He stuffed the map in his pocket and hurried back to his dorm room to retrieve the invisibility cloak. He was just rummaging in his trunk for some galleons when Ginny burst through the door. He straightened up, surprised. She'd never come up to their dorm before.

"They gave you the map, didn't they?" she asked without preamble. "And you're going to use it to go into Hogsmeade."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "How on earth did you know that?"

"Oh please, Harry," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Who do you think helped them figure out the passwords to the thing?"

"But you would have been like ten years old!" Harry did the math quickly in his head.

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, yes. But I was an exceptionally clever ten-year-old."

Harry shook his head in amazement as shoved his arms into his jacket. "Wanna come with?" He tried to act nonchalant while waiting for her answer. Despite their oaths they would be friends, they hadn't really spent a lot of time together. He thought maybe she was still having nightmares though; he noticed dark circles underneath her eyes the past few weeks.

Ginny titled her head and pursed her lips, considering the idea. "I'd better not," she said finally. "I've got a massive amount of homework I've been putting off. I'm supposed to meet some people in the library in a few minutes."

Harry was heartened to see that she at least seemed a little disappointed. "I'll see you when I get back then, yeah? I'll bring you some chocolate from Honeydukes."

"Thanks," she grinned. "Good luck. I hope you don't get caught."

Harry held up the Marauders' Map and his invisibility cloak. "Please. Give me a little credit."

Ginny smirked and turned to go. "I just did."

Harry ran as fast as he could back to Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy had seen him, he was almost sure of it; the git was probably on his way to tell Snape right now. Harry had to make it back before Draco and he had to make it look like he'd been there the whole time. Luckily, he knew about the tunnel leading from Hogwarts to Honeydukes' cellar and Draco didn't. He silently praised Fred and George Weasley as he ran, reminding himself to do something extra nice for them if he got out of this with no detention.

Panting, he reached the end of the tunnel and took the steps two at a time to come up underneath the statue of the one-eyed witch. Cautiously he whispered the password and moved the statue slightly so he could see around the corner before he crawled out. Looking down at the map, he was engrossed in searching for nearby tattle-tellers when he heard a low hiss from the side corridor. Startled, he looked up and saw Ginny.

She was lagging behind a group of second-years, her satchel of books slung diagonally across her chest. She had noticed him coming out of the ground and looked amused as their eyes met but then Harry watched as a stricken look came over her face and she looked back at him, wide-eyed.

Harry looked back down at the map and saw Snape was walking directly towards them. He was probably on his way to Gryffindor Tower to check Draco's story and if Harry came out now, he'd walk right into him.

Ginny looked in horror at Harry and then back at Snape, who was striding towards them with his usual sneer. There was no way he could miss Harry's head sticking out of the floor underneath the statue. He was almost upon the niche in the wall where the statue stood. Harry would be caught for sure; and the punishment for sneaking out of Hogwarts and going to Hogsmeade must be severe.

Thinking quickly, Ginny dug in her satchel for a handful of dung bombs Fred and George had gifted her with and, making sure Snape would see her, ran over and threw them in the nearby boy's bathroom. There was a loud explosion and a horrible stench began to fill the hallway. Several boys ran coughing out of the bathroom as smoke billowed out into the corridor.

"Miss Weasley!" Snape roared.

Ginny stopped her retreat and plastered a "oh no, you've caught me" expression on her face. "Professor, I-I didn't see you there."

"No, I guess you didn't," Snape said icily. "But then you were busy with other things, weren't you? Tell me, do you really think a ridiculously childish dung bomb is amusing?"

"Um, yes?" Ginny tried not to watch as Harry climbed swiftly out from underneath the statue and swirled the invisibility cloak over his body. She hoped fervently he was going to run like the wind back to the dormitory.

Snape smiled coldly. "Well, since you like things that make a lot of noise and smell, you won't mind serving detention with me Monday evening. I'm sure we can find something to meet your interests."

"Yes, Professor. Sorry, Professor." Ginny tried to look properly chastised and humbled. She didn't think he was fooled.

"By the way, have you seen Mr. Potter? I wish to speak with him."

"Harry? Gee, professor, I don't know. I think he said he was going to the library earlier."

"Excellent. Then you won't mind if I accompany you back to Gryffindor Tower to check if he has made it back yet."

Ginny swallowed and nodded as Snape fell into step beside her. He walked her back to the Tower, a dark looming presence beside her. Ginny tried to feel sorry that she'd willingly provoked him into giving her detention just so Harry could escape but she couldn't. She'd been watching as Harry had said goodbye to Ron and Hermione earlier and the look on his face had disturbed her. It just wasn't fair that those stupid Muggles he called his family were so cruel. It was a harmless trip into Hogsmeade. Why should Harry be left behind unable to enjoy something so basic?

When they reached the final flight of stairs leading to Gryffindor Tower, they both stopped short at the growing crowd of people around the Fat Lady's portrait. Snape took one look at the slashed painting and turned around, his black robes whirling around him as he hurried down the steps.

"Ginny? What happened?"

She looked over her shoulder to see Harry, Ron and Hermione standing behind her, a step below. "I don't know," she said worriedly. "Harry what took you so long? I thought you were ahead of us."

"Ran into Ron and Hermione on the way back."

"Well, I told Snape I thought you were going to the library today. So remember that if he asks."

Harry was about to throw himself down at Ginny's feet to thank her for what she'd done for him but Filch and Dumbledore showed up just then and chaos reigned when the Fat Lady named Sirius Black as her attacker.

The conversation he had overheard in the Three Broomsticks between Professor McGonagall, Cornelius Fudge and Madame Rosemerta came rushing back and the fact that Sirius Black hated him enough to sneak into Hogwarts dazed Harry. How could Black have betrayed his best friends to Voldemort? What did Voldemort do for Black that James and Lily Potter hadn't? Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione out of the corner of his eye. He could never do such a thing to them.

Harry spent the rest of the evening silently brooding in front of the fire. He was used to someone wanting to kill him but it bothered him that the sanctity of Gryffindor Tower had been compromised. Now everyone else would feel unsafe. And hadn't Sirius Black been a Gryffindor? How demented must he be?

Ron and Hermione soon said goodnight and he watched them go, wanting to tell them that he would never betray his friends the way Black had done. He hoped they already knew this but he had been so shook up by the day's revelations that he thought it might bear repeating.

Ginny joined him in front of the fireplace and they sat in a comfortable silence until Harry became aware that they were the only ones in the common room.

"I meant to thank you for earlier," he said, breaking the silence. "I can't believe you did that for me."

Ginny shrugged, her eyes still on the flames "S'not like you haven't ever done anything for me."

"Ginny," Harry said impatiently. "I didn't do that because I expected some sort of repayment."

She turned bright brown eyes to him. If he looked closely, he could see the flames reflected in them. "I know," she said simply. "But that doesn't mean I don't owe you. If I can do something for you I will."

"Besides," she said darkly, looking back at the fireplace, "you should have been able to go. It's not fair you have to live with those awful Muggles."

Harry couldn't disagree with her there. "Well, I still appreciate it. He gave you detention, didn't he?"

"Yes."

Harry winced. "Damn, Ginny, I'm sorry. It wasn't worth it. I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll…do your homework that night or something."

Ginny smiled. "But then I would just owe you more," she pointed out. "Don't worry, Harry. It will be fine. This is what friends do for each other, you know."

Harry sighed, tired of arguing with her.

"Can I ask you something, Harry?" Ginny twisted her torso so that she fully faced him on the couch.

"Anything," he replied.

"Why did you come after me? To the Chamber I mean?"

"You're a Weasley," Harry answered almost immediately. He didn't feel he needed to elaborate but he plugged on anyway. "You're Ron's sister and he's my best mate. I couldn't let him…or any of your family…suffer. Not when there was something I could do."

He looked at her anxiously. "I'm sorry it wasn't for a more personal reason; that we weren't friends."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Are you ever going to stop feeling guilty about that?"

"Probably not."

"Fine, then I'm not going to stop throwing dungbombs into the boys' loo if it gets you out of trouble with Snape."

"Deal. But then I get to rescue you any time, anywhere," Harry countered.

"Not if I rescue you first," she shot back.

Harry opened his mouth to reply but then shut it, opting instead to simply grin at her. She'd brought him out of his funk. He'd started to notice that Ginny Weasley did that more and more; it seemed to be effortless for her.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Bloody hell, woman," he said good-naturedly, "do you ever stop asking questions?"

"Well, it's more of an observation," she clarified.

"Go ahead." Harry settled back further into the cushions to get comfortable.

"Sirius Black," Ginny stated. "It bothers you."

Harry immediately stiffened. How much did she know? Did everyone but him know that Sirius Black had betrayed his parent's to Voldemort? And if they did, why hadn't anyone thought to tell him?

"It's no good getting angry at me," she said practically. "I didn't know you didn't know about what had happened. I thought my dad told you when we were at the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry lifted an eyebrow, wondering if she could read minds. "Well, he didn't," he said shortly. "He told me Black was after me but he didn't tell me the whole story. I just found today actually; I overheard Professor McGonagall talking with Madame Rosmerta and Cornelius Fudge at the pub."

"Sorry," Ginny said sympathetically.

Harry's good mood had evaporated as quickly as it had come. He went back to stewing for a few moments until: "I just wish I understood! I mean…how could he do that to them? He was their friend!" The thought of doing something like that to Ron and Hermione made him feel sick to his stomach. How could Black have done it?

Ginny hugged one knee to her chest and rested her chin on it, leaving the other leg to dangle off the couch. Harry was amused to see that her leg didn't even reach the floor.

"You're sure he's guilty then," she asked.

Harry looked at her in astonishment. "He was sent to Azakaban for 12 years! There were a dozen witnesses to his murder of Peter Pettigrew and he was their secret keeper. How else would Voldemort have found them?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know. But I got Bill to tell me the story once when I was about 9 years old; my mum didn't want me knowing but Bill—he's never been able to deny me anything when I ask properly. What happened—it's always bothered me."

"Why?"

"Well," she said slowly, drawing out the word as she gathered her thoughts. "They never tried Sirius Black—they just sent him straight to Azkaban. So no one ever heard his side of the story. And that business about Peter Pettigrew's finger…that's always bugged me. If Sirius Black killed him with a spell powerful enough to kill twelve muggles and obliterate his body, why was only the finger, and no other bits, left behind? I mean, think about it, Harry-" Ginny turned to him eagerly and pointed her hand at him as if she was holding a wand.

"If I want to kill you, I point my wand in one of two places, your heart or your head, right?"

Harry nodded reluctantly. "Sure, I suppose."

"But if I point my wand at your head, then the blast blows your body into pieces beginning with your head. So everything is obliterated moving downwards, do you follow?"

"Maybe." Harry tried to picture his body blowing up in the manner she suggested and made a face. This was a morbid exercise.

"So how is the finger left?" she said impatiently. "It would have been a toe or something because the blast loses momentum as it moves downward. And presumably you'd put up your hands or something to stop me. So they'd be the first to go. Same thing if I get you in the chest. Then the blast would move outward in all directions, it'd be sure to get your hands. And how could a spell totally eliminate all parts of a body except for a little finger? You'd think if it left that, there would be more as well."

"Anyway," she continued thoughtfully. "It's weird and has never made sense to me."

"You're scary, you know that, right?"

Ginny shot him a grin. "Yeah, guess I've thought too much about it. You know that Sirius protested his innocence up to the very end?" She looked at him sharply. "He always said he wasn't guilty."

"So did a lot of Death Eaters, I imagine," Harry said.

"Yeah," she conceded. "But…"

"What?"

She looked at him apologetically. "I used to ask my mum and dad to tell me stories about you when I was a little girl. Had a bit of a crush on you, even before I knew you…and well, a little after I knew you too." A little bit of pink came into her cheeks and Harry thought it was adorable.

"How could you crush on me when you didn't even know me?"

She shrugged and managed a small grin. "I don't know. But I used to drive my mum batty asking for stories about Harry Potter. When she'd run out of them, she would tell me stories about your parents. She didn't know them very well but she'd heard all kinds of stories about your dad and Sirius at Hogwarts. Apparently the two of them were some sort of legend; all kinds of pranks and stuff. They used to hang out with Professor Lupin and of course, Peter Pettigrew."

Harry recalled McGonagall talking about how James Potter and Sirius Black had been the best of friends. "Thick as thieves," she'd said.

"What's your point? We knew they were friends. He betrayed them."

"Well, that's sort of my point," she said thoughtfully. "I never knew your dad but I've heard loads about him; he doesn't seem like the type to make friends with someone who would betray him completely out of the blue like that."

Harry stared at her. Once again, she managed to put his thoughts into words. He had been wondering the same thing. How had James Potter been fooled by Sirius Black? They'd been friends a long time, according to Professor McGonagall. It was hard to believe his dad had trusted someone who would later betray him so violently.

"I don't know, Ginny," Harry shook his head. "But you and I know better than anyone how Voldemort works; he probably made it all too easy for friends to betray each other. And the Fidelius charm was broken somehow. Sirius was the secret keeper; how else would Voldemort have found out if Sirius didn't tell him?"

"Yeah," she said dully. "I guess you're right. I just…well, I just can't ever imagine betraying my friends that way. Can you?" She looked at him, her large brown eyes widening even more in her sincerity. Harry swallowed as he met her gaze. He didn't know how he knew it, but he was positive Ginny had just included him in that statement. Harry never thought much about anyone betraying him, least of all Ginny; but it was nice to have it confirmed.

"Never," he said fiercely. "I would never do that."

Two nights later, Harry was sitting in the common room with Ron and Hermione, listening to them bicker over Hermione's cat Crookshanks and Ron's pet rat, Scabbers. Personally, he thought Ron was being a bit unreasonable; Scabbers was a rat after all, and Crookshanks a cat. How was Hermione supposed to combat thousands of years of feline instinct? He didn't dare voice his opinion though, lest Ron direct his anger towards him.

The portrait door opened and Harry turned to see Ginny climb through. She was white as a sheet and if Harry was not mistaken, shaking like a leaf; it looked like she was struggling to keep a grip on the bag in her hands. Casting a look back at Ron and Hermione and deciding they were too engrossed in their argument to notice his absence, he got up and walked over to her.

"Ginny?" He asked in a low voice. "Are you all right?" He took her bag from her and put out a hand to catch her as she stumbled and latched onto his forearm in an effort to stay upright.

"Ginny?" He repeated, now a bit alarmed. "What's wrong, what happened?"

Ginny's unfocused eyes swirled a bit until they finally found Harry's face. "H-Harry!" she stuttered. "I-I-I-"

"Come over here." Harry looked around to make sure no one was watching them and as Ron and Hermione were too intent on ignoring each other on the other side of the room, he led Ginny to a more private couch by the stairs.

Ginny sank into the couch cushions as if she couldn't bear to stand any longer; she still maintained her death-like grip on Harry's arm. "I-I had detention-"

"What did Snape do?" he interrupted harshly. "That git, if he-"

Ginny shook her head rapidly. "N-no…not Snape." She took a deep breath and let go of her grip on Harry's forearm to cover her face with her hands.

"Ginny?" Harry asked anxiously. He remained silent while she took several cleansing breaths and then lifted her head.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said harshly. "I just, well I've just had a bit of a shock."

He didn't ask, not knowing if he should pry.

"Stupid of me, really, not to have expected it," she shook her head. "I can't believe I never even thought of this."

"Thought of what, Ginny?"

Ginny eyed him as if she was sizing up whether he deserved to know what was going on. Harry knew he had no real business prying into what was bothering Ginny; their friendship was only beginning. The level of concern he felt at this moment made him…uncomfortable.

"I don't think I have to ask you to keep this to yourself," she said flatly. Her eyes strayed towards Ron and Hermione who were studiously ignoring each other.

"Of course," Harry said immediately.

She took another deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. "I was walking back from detention," she began, looking down at her knees, "and I decided to take that shortcut by the Slytherin common room, you know the one behind the tapestry of Piffy and the Camels?"

Harry shook his head. "I had no idea there was a shortcut down there."

"It's on the map," she said dismissively, waving her hand. "Anyway, I was about halfway down the corridor when the strap on my bag broke," she gestured to the satchel at her feet and Harry could see the frayed edges where the strap had broken.

"I lit my wand so I could pick up everything and when I'd finished, I noticed a large snake carved into the wall." She swallowed. "It looked like…some of the carvings down in the Chamber," her voice lowering to a near-whisper. "And I just stared at it. I couldn't seem to-to tear my eyes from it and then it-it started to move."

She looked up at Harry, her eyes wide, her face frightened. Harry hadn't seen that look since she'd woken up in the Chamber of Secrets. "And then I realized that it was moving because…because I was asking it to 'open.'"

"Harry," she said urgently. "I was speaking parseltongue."

Whatever he'd expected Ginny to say, it was not that. Harry usually forgot that he could speak parseltongue and since he'd learned that it was part of the magic Voldemort had left inside of him the night he'd tried to kill him, he hadn't thought about it at all.

"You-you're sure?"

"Yes, of course, I'm sure," Ginny said irritably. "And the bloody snake opened up a doorway, didn't it? I had to stare at the snake carving forever to get it to close again." She shuddered.

"What was behind the door?" Harry asked curiously.

Ginny shrugged. "Another shortcut. Probably led straight to the Slytherin dormitories. That's not the point, Harry!" She shouted the last bit and flinched when several people glanced over at them.

"The point is that the only time I've ever been able to speak parseltongue is when Tom Riddle was possessing me!" she whispered fiercely.

Harry felt his own eyes widen; he understood how it was that Ginny could suddenly speak parseltongue; in fact, this conversation had suddenly taken an eerily familiar turn.

"What does it mean, you think?"

Harry stood up and held out his hand. "It means," he said grimly, "that we are going to see Professor Dumbledore."

Chapter 4

Ginny listened quietly while Professor Dumbledore explained that Voldemort had left a small part of himself inside of her when he'd possessed her through the diary last year. It was this small part of him that had given her the ability to speak parseltongue and probably lots of other things left to discover.

"I had wondered if this would happen," he confessed. "But these things often take time to reveal themselves and I had no idea if and how it would manifest itself."

"It's rather interesting," he said, stroking his beard, "that parseltongue was an ability he passed along to you."

Ginny must have scoffed because he looked at her over the top of his glasses, his blue eyes twinkling.

"It IS interesting, whether or not you want to admit it," he said mildly. "Perhaps you should ask Mr. Potter how he acquired his ability to speak parseltongue."

"I don't object that it's interesting, Professor," Ginny said, just as mildly. "I object to the use of the word 'ability.' It's much too positive to describe what's happened."

"Parseltongue is an ability very few wizards have," Dumbledore pointed out. "It doesn't have the best reputation but perhaps you and Mr. Potter can change that."

"I'm not likely to be broadcasting the fact that I can talk to snakes," Ginny said, more harshly than she meant to, "especially since I got the ability to do so from a dark wizard."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and rested his hands on the top of his desk. "You have a connection with Tom Riddle," he said bluntly, "I do not think this connection will end until Voldemort himself is gone. We are in uncharted territory here, Miss Weasley. I don't have any idea as to how this will play out."

"What are you trying to say, Professor?"

"I merely wish for you to face the facts, Ginevra. This connection—it may lead to other things and as far as I can tell, there will be no escaping it. You must learn instead, to control it—so that it doesn't control you."

"What sort of things?"

"As I have said, I do not exactly know," Dumbledore said carefully. "But you might find yourself casting unusually powerful spells, or that you have a sudden knowledge of something without actually having studied for it. There is, quite frankly, no way of knowing which parts of himself Voldemort left inside of you. When he possessed you, you shared each other's minds; even though it was the mind of a sixteen year old Voldemort, I imagine his mind was already twisted and evil."

Ginny abruptly stood up and walked over to the window. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at Hagrid's hut, wishing she were visiting him instead of in this office talking about her connection with Voldemort.

She knew exactly what the Headmaster was talking about. She'd already been surprised at the force of some of her spells and once in awhile, school lessons seemed awfully familiar. Ideas and memories often appeared to her out of nowhere; at first she hadn't noticed it but being back in Hogwarts had triggered a whole flood of memories that had never happened to her and Ginny had realized with a sickening certainty that they were left over from her possession last year. Sometimes it felt like something dark and oily had taken root inside of her; during those times, it was all she could do to not lash out at everyone around her. She shivered. It would be all too easy to lose control and let that part of her take over…

"He's sick," she said in a low voice. "Some of the things he's thought and done…I don't think he meant for me see them; he didn't realize the connection would go both ways when he tried to take me completely over."

"I suppose," she murmured, almost to herself, "that if Harry hadn't shown up, it wouldn't have mattered much."

She turned back. "Is there anything else, Professor?"

Dumbledore's eyes searched her face. "No, you may go. Thank you for telling me. I trust you will let me know if anything else unusual happens?"

Ginny nodded and moved towards the door.

"Then I will see you tomorrow morning at breakfast. And Ginny, please know that I am always available, should you require my assistance. You may come speak with me any time you wish, day or night."

Ginny was touched. "Thank you, Professor."

He smiled and Ginny left the room.

Harry was waiting for her at the end of the stairwell. He sprang up when she descended the steps and fell into step beside her as they walked back to the tower.

"You know what he told me?" Ginny said finally.

"If what I suspect is true then he had the exact same conversation with me last June," Harry said dully. "I'm sorry."

Ginny shot a look at him. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about, Harry. This is Tom's doing, not yours."

"I didn't mean it like that," he said carefully. "I just meant that I'm sorry it's happened to you."

"Oh. Well, thanks then." She fell silent. "I'm sorry about your connection as well."

"Yeah, it sucks," Harry said.

Ginny snorted. "That's a bit of an understatement, isn't it?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah."

"Still," he continued after another silent moment, "it's kind of nice."

"Kind of nice," Ginny repeated in disbelief. "Kind of nice!"

"I didn't mean it like that," he said hastily. "I just meant that well…it's nice for me…to have someone to share it with. I'm not the only parselmouth anymore."

"You're not going to tell people, are you?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "But I'll know, and you'll know and well…it'll be like our secret, yeah?"

"Our own little secret language, then," Ginny said dryly.

"Sort of," he admitted. He decided to take a chance and threw a brotherly arm around her shoulders. "It's just another thing we've got in common you know."

"Yes," she murmured. "We seem to have more in common every day."

A week went by and Harry could see that Ginny was as uncomfortable as he had been when he first learned he could talk to snakes; in fact, she seemed to be taking it even worse than he had but he supposed that came from growing up in the wizarding world where such things were taught as evil.

He caught up with her after lunch one day and convinced her to take a walk with him after dinner. He had an idea but he wasn't really sure how to approach her with it. She might think it was stupid.

Harry brought his cloak down to dinner with him and caught Ginny's eye after pudding. He motioned towards the door and she stood up with him. Once outside they walked in silence to the lake. They reached the edge and Harry turned to her.

"I know what you're going through."

Ginny just raised one eyebrow at him.

"But I'm not a dark wizard and neither are you," he plunged on, "and none of this is our fault."

She raised the other eyebrow at him.

"I can see that it bothers you," he insisted, "and believe me, I felt the same way, but-"

"Harry," she interrupted, "what are you getting at?"

Harry deflated and stuck his hands in his pockets. He lifted his elbows in a half-shrug. "All I'm saying is that he's inside me too. I know how you feel."

"I feel dirty," she said suddenly.

"Me too."

"I feel like I'm…tainted."

"Me too."

"Angry. Used. Liable to explode into a dark wizard at any moment."

"Me too. I know. And I understand but I really don't think that's going to happen."

Ginny looked out at the lake. "What if there's too much of him inside of me?" she said in a low voice. "What if there's not enough of me left and he takes control again?"

Harry shook his head. "That's not going to happen. You're too strong for that. Look, Ginny-" he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him, "all this means is that he transferred some of his powers to you. It was an accident on his part and if he'd meant it to do any real harm, he would have transferred a lot more."

"You don't get it," she said quietly. "I still feel him sometimes. It's more than a transference of his powers, it's like he's still there."

Harry nodded, his lips pressed together tightly. "I know," he said. "Believe me, I know. And I think it's always going to be this way, until he's gone for good." He waved a hand towards the lake. "He's still out there, Gin. Biding his time."

"So what do we do?"

"Well," he looked back at her, "I thought it might be fun to really learn how to speak parseltongue."

Ginny looked shocked. "What?"

"Our own secret language," he reminded her sheepishly. "I thought maybe we could practice speaking it to each other, until we're more comfortable with it."

"That-" Ginny stopped and gazed at him searchingly. "That might be okay," she said slowly. "But it will be just between us, right? No one has to know?"

"No one," he assured her.

"So how do we begin?"

"Well, I guess look at me and pretend I'm a snake. Then say something."

Ginny stared at him for several minutes and then began speaking. It took awhile for him to realize that she was speaking parseltongue. He had to really concentrate to hear the hissing when what he really heard was, "My name is Ginny Weasley. I have six over-protective prats for brothers and I'm a student at Hogwarts."

Harry smiled. "Weird." 

"Your turn," she prompted.

"My name is Harry Potter. I don't have any brothers but am related to the dumbest muggles on the planet and have a lovely pet owl."

"Weird," Ginny echoed. "I can't even tell you're speaking parseltongue half the time."

"I know, we're really going to have work on that."

Over the next several weeks, Harry and Ginny took numerous walks together speaking entirely in parseltongue. Several times they actually found a live snake and enjoyed many conversations about the weather in Scotland vs. the weather in Southern England and the differences in the taste between various rodents. They learned slowly to recognize when the other was speaking parseltongue and it was in this way that they got braver and had whispered conversations in the common room when no one else was around. They spent a lot of time together and Harry found it difficult sometimes to keep Ginny's secret. Especially when Ron looked at him funny and Hermione looked at him knowingly whenever he went off with Ginny.

Ginny grudgingly admitted to herself that it was nice. Harry helped her to lose her fear of parseltongue, or rather, lose her fear of the implications of being one of the only two people who could speak to snakes. Ginny decided she had wasted too much time last year worrying about her crush on Harry; she'd been better off being his friend.

Nearly two months later, Harry had skipped dinner because he'd put off his potions essay too long and was scrambling to finish it by the next morning. He barely heard the portrait open and didn't even know anyone had entered the common room until a small hand placed a roast beef sandwich wrapped in a napkin in front of him. He looked up to see Ginny, a small smile on her face.

"Thanks," he said distractedly, taking the sandwich and biting off a chunk. "I was hungry."

"Figured," she said. "Made lots of headway?"

"A bit," he grunted. "Would have made more if I hadn't wasted so much time playing Quidditch the other day." He took another bite of his sandwich. "Or if Hermione would help me. You wouldn't happen to know what happens when one adds asphodel root to essence of wormwood would you?"

"You get a potion that removes warts," Ginny said promptly. She flushed when Harry looked at her in amazement. "Sorry. I don't know how I knew that."

Harry nodded but didn't say anything. Ginny had eventually told him all the details of her conversation with Professor Dumbledore. Since then, he'd often noticed when she spouted random bits of information. He had yet to see an example of increased power however.

Ginny punched him lightly on the shoulder in goodbye and turned to leave. She waved at Ron and Hermione who had just entered the common room and started to walk up the stairs.

"Ginny!" Ron raised his voice. "I want to speak with you."

Harry's head lifted at the angry tone in Ron's voice.

"What is it?" Ginny asked impatiently. "I've got things to do."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Actually I want to speak to you and Harry." He looked over at Harry who lifted in eyebrows in question. Ginny huffed and joined them around Harry's table in front of the fire.

Ron stood, mimicking his sister's pose with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His gaze flitted from Harry, who was still seated, to Ginny who was glaring at him. Harry thought Ron cut a rather imposing figure and he shot a glance at Hermione who smiled worriedly back.

"I want to know where you two keep disappearing off to all the time. Every time I turn around, you two are sneaking away. Did you think we," he gestured between himself and Hermione, "wouldn't notice?"

"Don't bring me into this, Ronald," Hermione interrupted. "I think it's great that Harry and Ginny are friends. You've no right-"

"Just answer the question," Ron interrupted. "Harry?" 

Harry closed his potions book slowly and sat back in his chair, his arms dangling loosely off the sides. "I'm really not sure what the big deal is, Ron. Ginny and I are friends. We're allowed to spend time together."

Ron's eyes narrowed into slits. "Friends? Is that all?"

"Now, wait just a minute-" Ginny said hotly. She stopped short when Harry held up a hand.

"What are you asking us, Ron?"

Ron took a deep breath and said quickly: "Are you dating my sister? My 12-year-old, baby sister?"

Harry had opened his mouth to speak but Ginny would not be silenced. "All right, that's enough," she said sharply. "Harry and I are friends, nothing more. And frankly, it's none of your business what we are; if we were something more, it would be no concern of yours."

"You are my sister," Ron shot back. "It's my job to protect you. I didn't do a bang-up job last year, I know, and I mean to make up for it."

"By protecting me from Harry?" Ginny laughed. "Ron, he's your best mate!"

"I know," Ron shot Harry a small smile. "But you guys are hiding something and I want to know what it is."

Ginny sighed and exchanged glances with Harry. He shook his head imperceptibly; it was her story to tell and he would not interfere. She ran an agitated hand through her hair, pulling out her ponytail as she went.

"Fine," she said after a long moment. "I'll tell you both. But you have to promise to keep it a secret. I don't want the whole bloody castle to know."

"Of course, Ginny," said Hermione. She sounded offended that Ginny would even suggest such a thing.

Ginny checked the room, making sure they were still alone, letting her gaze finally rest on Ron's. Harry wished he could reach out and squeeze her hand in support but he thought she'd probably deck him for thinking she couldn't handle this.

"Two months ago I discovered that I'm a parselmouth," she said, speaking directly to Ron. "It freaked me out and Harry helped me. He took me to see Dumbledore and has spent a good deal of time speaking parseltongue with me so I would be more comfortable with it. That's all we've been doing. Talking to each other and the occasional snake on the grounds. That's it."

Hermione gave a small gasp and Ron's face paled. "You-you-you're a parselmouth," he choked. "Like Harry?"

"Yes," Ginny confirmed. "Like Harry. In fact, just like Harry."

"Oh!" Hermione said, her eyes going wide. "Then did he…give it to you?"

Ginny tore her gaze from Ron's to look down at her friend. "Yes," she said flatly. "He did."

"Who?" Ron managed. "Harry?"

"No, you idiot," Hermione said, "Tom Riddle. Voldemort."

"Don't say that name," Ron said through gritted teeth. "Ginny, I don't understand—what does this mean?"

Ginny gave a louder sigh and shot another look at Harry. He tried to smile encouragingly at her but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Tom Riddle left me some of his powers when he possessed," Ginny summed up. "Just like Voldemort transferred some of his power to Harry when he was a baby."

"But-but only dark wizards are parselmouths," Ron breathed.

"Ronald!"

Harry shot to his feet, ready to defend Ginny, but she shoved him unceremoniously aside and stepped forward.

"Are you saying you think I'm a dark wizard?" she asked her brother quietly.

"No-no, of course not, I just…well, it's true, isn't it?" Ron defended himself.

"It's not true," Harry said in a low voice. "I'm a parseltongue and I'm not a dark wizard."

"Well, no Harry, of course you're not but it's not your fault He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named tried to kill you and passed on some powers…" his voice trailed off when he saw the menacing look come into Harry's eyes.

"Neither is it Ginny's fault," Harry said harshly. "It's not her fault Tom Riddle possessed her. I think you owe your sister an apology."

"For what?!"

"For acting like speaking parseltongue is a bad thing," Hermione insisted. "I honestly don't see what the big deal is. So what if they can talk to snakes, it sounds jolly interesting to me-"

"Interesting," Ron bellowed. "It's an ability passed down from Salazar Slytherin himself Hermione. It's not interesting, it's scary!"

Harry stiffened. He could feel Ginny bristling behind him. He'd expected Ron to be a bit more supportive of his sister. He'd been fairly supportive of Harry last year when everyone found out he could talk to snakes. Why should he treat Ginny any differently?

"I can't take anymore of this git," she said to Harry. "I'm going to my room."

Harry nearly cheered her when he realized she had just spoken to him in parseltongue. Ron's eyes went wide as Ginny hissed at Harry and then stalked off up the girl's staircase.

"I'd better go after her." Hermione shot a scathing look at Ron before following Ginny.

"Ron, mate, you've done it this time," Harry shook his head. "Why did you have to say that?"

"Say what?"

"That it was scary. Merlin, you're thick sometimes. You saw how hard it was for her to even admit it to you; you heard her say she'd been having a difficult time coming to terms with it! How could you say that to her!?"

Ron raised one eyebrow. "Why are you so concerned?"

"Ginny's my friend," Harry said fiercely. "And she doesn't deserve to be treated that way."

"I think how I treat my sister is my own business," Ron pointed out. He fell backwards into a nearby chair with a soft thump. "What's going on here, Harry? I mean, really. Since when are you and Ginny such good friends?"

Harry both hands through his hair agitatedly. "I just…hell, I just respect her so much, Ron. I mean, she's been through hell you know? And she's still here; she's still fighting for something normal. After what she went through last year, she's still funny, kind, thoughtful, when she has every reason to hate the world." He snorted. "And she'd kick your arse and mine put together if we gave her half a reason. She's like-" he searched his brain for the right word, "hell, I don't know what I mean. But I don't think any of us realize how much she controls her-her fury all the time."

"Her fury?"

Harry half smiled. "Yeah. I really think she's furious most of the time. Furious at Tom Riddle, furious at that damn diary, furious at Lucius Malfoy for giving the thing to her, furious at herself, furious at you and me for having to rescue her, furious at her brothers for not paying attention to her last year…"

"Okay, okay." Ron held up a hand. "I get it."

"She even looks like what you'd imagine fury would look like, doesn't she?" Harry mused. "All that red hair. When she's mad, it sort of lights up, you know?"

Ron eyed him critically. "No, I don't know," he said. "Are you crushing on my sister?"

Harry shrugged. "No. Not really. I don't think so. Just…in awe, I suppose. I'm really happy we're getting to be better friends. Despite how much she hates the parseltongue it just added to the list of things we have in common."

He sat down in the chair next to Ron's. "She's really pretty though," he pointed out. "You can't deny that."

Ron snorted. "I will deny that to my dying day."

They fell silent, both contemplating the force that was Ginny. Finally, Ron gave a great sigh.

"I guess, you're right. I'm a git. I should go apologize."

"Of course I'm right," Harry said. "And yes, you're a git. But I think you're going to have to wait until tomorrow to apologize. Guys aren't allowed in the girls' dorms."

"Ron?"

"Yeah, Harry?"

"What was Ginny like when she was a little girl?"

Ron contemplated the question for a moment before grinning. "You know, Harry, I think your word 'fury' sums it up just right."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. She hated being the youngest and the only girl. Mum would try to keep her inside and do girly things with her but she never wanted anything to do with all that stuff. She was always sneaking after us and then, if we were doing something we'd get in trouble for, she'd hold it over our heads until she cashed in the favour. She was a bloody menace. She was sneaky and if she wasn't getting us blamed for the things she did, she was getting out of them by batting her big brown eyes and tossing her pigtails. She had throwing a temper tantrum down to a fine art."

Harry laughed. "I can see that."

"Still, she was awfully cute. We were closest in age so it was often us against the rest of my brothers. We were pretty close growing up; until I came to Hogwarts." Ron looked towards the staircase. "That's why what happened last year is more my fault than Percy's, Fred or George's. I should have noticed."

"It's funny how you both feel so much guilt over what happened when really it wasn't anyone's fault but Voldemort. You want to blame someone, blame him."

Ron heaved a big sigh. "I'll try, Harry. I'll try."

Harry barely saw Ginny over the next several weeks. Ron had yet to apologize to her and she avoided all contact with both of them. Harry couldn't understand why Ginny seemed mad at him; Hermione eventually had to explain that Ginny felt Harry was betraying her because he was speaking to Ron. Harry had shrugged and brushed it off until a few days later when Ginny ignored him in the hallways and he decided the whole thing made him rather angry. Why should he stop being friends with Ron just because Ginny and Ron were fighting? Ron was his best mate. Harry had already stood up for Ginny to her brother. What more did she want from him?

It wasn't until Sunday evening that Harry found himself alone with Ginny in the common room. He had been left behind when Ron, Dean and Seamus snuck down to the kitchens because he had yet to make up dire predictions for his Divination homework.

"Ginny," he began conversationally, "do you think I should die by drowning in the bathtub or be trampled to death by a giant herd of blast-ended skrewts?"

"The latter, I think," she said idly flipping the newspaper. "It's more painful."

"Pain it is then," Harry said cheerfully and he made the notation on his chart.

He scribbled in a few near-death experiences and finally rolled up the parchment, thankful he was finally done. Shoving the parchment into his bag, he left it by the table and went to join Ginny on the couch. She ignored him, even when he stretched out and propped his feet up in her lap.

"Are you ever going to talk to me again?" he asked her in parseltongue.

Ginny looked up startled that he used the snake language when there were other people in the room. Harry found he didn't much care.

"Ron's my best mate," he continued. "You can't expect me to stop being friends with your brother simply because you're mad at him."

"He's a git," she hissed back in a low voice.

Harry took it as a personal triumph that she'd used parseltongue. "Yes, he is," he agreed. "And I told him so. He's been trying to apologize to you for days now but you won't let him."

Ginny sighed in frustration and tossed the Daily Prophet onto a nearby table. "I'm sorry, Harry. You're right. You're allowed to be friends with whomever you want. I just…" her hands curled into fists, "I just want someone to be on my side."

"I am on your side," Harry insisted. "Ron was a total prat. But he knows it and you need to accept his apology."

"He's my brother," she said plainly. "It just makes it worse somehow."

"I know," said Harry sympathetically. "But you really should give him a chance."

Ginny shoved his feet off her lap and twisted around on her seat so that her feet lay on his stomach. He put a hand down and absentmindedly rubbed them.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, switching back to English.

"You ought to be. I didn't do anything except defend you."

"I know," she said. "You've been really great. I just…lost my temper, I suppose."

"You do that a lot," Harry said. "I think I'll call you 'Fury' from now on."

"Fury?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned up at the ceiling. "With that red hair and your temper—you're the personification of fury."

"That's silly," Ginny reached down and pinched his thigh. He retaliated by tickling the bottoms of her feet, which nearly got him a kick in the nose. Soon, they were laughing as each tried to tickle the other. The fight eventually ended when Ginny fell off the couch pulling Harry with her. He landed on top of her with a soft 'oomph.'

"I win, Fury," he drawled, shifting his weight to his arms.

"Don't call me that!" Ginny reached up and tugged at his hair. He grabbed her wrist to stop her just as Ron entered the common room. They both froze.

Ron stood looking down at them with a blank look on his face. Harry rolled off Ginny and quickly got to his feet. Ginny merely sat up, propping herself against the couch, a mask of innocence on her face.

"Um, tickle fight?" Harry explained. Ginny nodded in agreement but Ron didn't look like he believed them.

"Honestly, Ron," Ginny finally huffed, "just what is your—hey!" Ron had reached down and grabbed her under the arm. He hauled her to her feet and dragged up the stairs all the way to the boys' third-year dorm while she protested loudly.

Her brother shoved her inside the room and closed the door behind him. Ginny sat on the edge of the closest bed and crossed her arms over her chest. Brother and sister were silent, watching each other warily.

"He makes you laugh," Ron said finally. He suddenly looked weary.

"Who? Harry?"

Ron nodded. 

"Sometimes." She shrugged. "So what?"

"I haven't heard you really laugh since before last year," Ron clarified.

"Oh, well-"

"Let me finish," Ron held up a hand. "I'm sorry for what I said about you being a parselmouth. I don't really think that; it was just the shock.

"I failed you so spectacularly last year, Ginny," he said earnestly. "I'm trying not to do it again."

"By being suspicious of my friendship with Harry? By looking for signs that I've turned into a dark wizard?"

Ron shook his head. "No, by paying attention to what's going on with you."

"You can't know what's going on with me every minute," said Ginny, an edge of frustration creeping into her voice.

"I know." Ron ran an agitated hand through his hair. "But we used to be friends, you and I. Can't we get back to that? I want you to trust me like you trust Harry."

Ginny titled her head as she considered his request. She hadn't thought about it but he was right—she did trust Harry, despite the odds of her ever wanting to trust anyone again. After all, the last time she'd trusted someone so completely, he'd turned out to be Voldemort.

"Friends," she repeated slowly. "Okay. What about the protective brother bit?"

He smiled sheepishly at her. "I've been trying; haven't you noticed? I didn't even blow up about that little scene down there with Harry. Although I am dying to know-"

"It was nothing," she confirmed. "Just a tickle fight that got out of hand. That's all."

"And there's nothing between you two?"

She shrugged. "We're friends. We've a lot in common, but no, nothing beyond that."

"What about your little crush on him last year? Don't try to deny it, even I wasn't that thick."

"I'm not denying it," she said hotly. "But it's over. We're friends. He knows that."

"Fine, fine," Ron said, holding up his hands and backing away. "Just checking."

"So are we done here?" Ginny pushed herself off the bed and walked over to the door.

"Yeah, except-" Ron hesitated and then took a step closer to her. He tentatively put his arms around her shoulders and gave her a small, awkward hug. She returned the hug, just as awkwardly and they both left the room considerably lighter than they had before.

Later that night, Harry was searching through his trunk for a spare bit of parchment when he noticed that his invisibility cloak was missing. He panicked for a short while before he remembered that Ginny had been in the room earlier in the afternoon. In fact, now that thought about it, he hadn't seen Ginny at all after her talk with Ron. Would she have taken it?

He quickly got out the map and scanned the parchment for Ginny's dot. She was in the Astronomy Tower. He checked his watch. It was still before curfew. He could just make it.

Ten minutes later, Harry entered a seemingly empty Astronomy Tower. He knew Ginny was there. He smelled a familiar flowery scent in the room.

"I know you're here," he said confidently. "And next time you might ask before you nick my cloak.

A swish of fabric revealed Ginny at the window. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "I didn't think you'd mind."

"I don't," he said honestly. "But still, I'd like to be asked."

"Sorry," she said again, unnecessarily.

"Everything okay?" Harry was taking a tremendous chance with this question. Their relationship so far had been based on mutual understanding and similar experiences. Despite their many conversations over the past few months, they hadn't spent a lot of time on 'feelings.'

"I'm fine," she reassured him. "Just thinking."

"About what?" He joined her at the window.

She shot a sidelong glance at him. "Nosy aren't we?"

"Look, Ginny," he said firmly. "I'm trying to be your friend here. You might meet me halfway and tell me what's troubling you. I might be able to help."

"I just feel," she waved a hand, "weird. Life is changing and I know I won't ever get it back. My brother wants to be my friend; my mother sends me letters and avoids all mention of what she really wants to ask, namely, 'am I being possessed this year?' Fred and George make every effort to not treat me with kid gloves but it only makes it apparent that they are. My professors look at me weirdly, I've got regular nightmares about Voldemort. Oh yeah, and I've also got a connection to said dark wizard which allows me to speak parseltongue along with as yet undiscovered abilities."

She took a deep breath and turned to Harry. "I know I'm the whiniest bitch on the planet but when did everything spiral out of my control, Harry? I feel like an adult trapped in a child's body. I've got nothing in common with anyone my own age…"

Her voice trailed off and Harry was struck again with a sudden clarity that this was what Dumbledore had been trying to tell him last year. Who else but someone who had been there could understand what she meant?

"I've said this before and I will repeat it until I am blue in the face or until you get it," he said fiercely. "I. Understand."

"He took so much from me," Ginny said softly. "I don't know if I'll ever get it back."

Harry shrugged. "So what? You'll replace those things with something else." He took a step closer so their shoulders were just brushing.

"He left the important stuff, Ginny. You still have a family who loves you, friends, a sense of humour…" Harry's voice trailed off. He'd never had to comfort someone before; perhaps he was doing a crap up job.

"Maybe," Ginny said.

"Maybe nothing," he snorted. "Look, things would have been different if last year never happened, sure. And who knows what kind of person I'd be if my parents had survived and I never had to go live with my Aunt and Uncle? But there's no point in such speculation. This is who we are; and for whatever reason, this is who we were meant to be. We have to learn to live with what we've been given; otherwise, what's the point, Gin?"

She was silent for a moment and then she turned to him, the beginnings of a smile on her face. "You make a lot of sense for a boy, Potter."

Harry was relieved. He felt like he was flying by the seat of his pants; what he'd said had been extremely sappy and he wondered where it came from. If Hermione had heard him, she would have been so proud.

"Feel better?"

"A little. It's going to take a while to get used to," she said. "Everything is so different that what I thought it would be. For example, who knew we would ever be friends like this?"

He nudged her with his elbow. "You mean because of your massive crush on me?"

She nudged him back just as hard. "Git. That's not what I mean. Besides, you know I'm over that."

"Great. I'll go tell the butter dishes it's safe to come out now."

"Harry Potter!"

Harry laughed and skipped nimbly out of her reach. She lunged again but he moved away just in time. He laughed at her from across the room. "Okay, I'm sorry. I take it back."

"And you'll never mention that," she shuddered, "incident again?"

"I promise," he swore. He moved back over to stand next to her. "Can I try something?"

She looked at him warily.

"What?"

"It's just something new I want to try," he said mildly. "It's part of the new sensitive Harry Potter. I've never done this before so I may be rubbish; you let me know what you think."

Harry stepped even closer to her and slowly slid both arms around her. He pulled her against him, her head tucked underneath his chin, and squeezed gently. It was the first time he'd ever hugged a girl; Hermione usually hugged him but he'd never initiated it.

Harry was amazed when he could feel Ginny's tense body slowly relaxing. Her body did this weird melting sort of thing until she was moulded against the front of him. Her arms slid around his waist and, astonishingly, she squeezed back until they were hugging each other. His head dropped onto her shoulder of its own accord and his arms wrapped themselves tighter around her tiny body. Harry felt sort of tingly, as if some age-old instinct had awoken in him. His body seemed to know what to do before his brain did.

Eventually, Ginny gave a small sigh and extracted herself from his arms. Harry felt dazed. Hugging Hermione, as nice as it was, was never like that.

"That-" Ginny cleared her throat, "that was really nice, Harry. Thank you."

He could only nod in response. "Any time," he finally managed to say.

Ginny raised her eyes at him but didn't comment. Instead, she gathered the invisibility cloak from where she'd dropped it on the floor and held it up. "We'll have to go together. It's past curfew."

He nodded and took the cloak from her, spreading it out and holding one corner of it up so she could slide underneath. They moved silently together, Ginny in front as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. There was a tenseness between them that had not existed before the hug in the Astronomy Tower and Harry felt determined to move past it.

"Just so you know," he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "if we get caught, I'm shoving you out of the cloak and taking off."

"Not if I shove you first," she whispered back.

"Oh, please," Harry scoffed. "A tiny thing like you? I could take you."

"I may be small, but I'm mighty," she warned.

Harry grinned. "I know, Fury, believe me, I know."

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry, but I don't have a choice. The name has stuck, you see."

"How would you like it if I thought of a horrible nickname for you?"

Harry shrugged. "Do your worst."

"Scarhead?"

"Too Malfoy."

"Specky-four-eyes?"

"Too juvenile."

"Heir of Slytherin?"

"Too..."

"Right. Sorry. Bad joke."

"Can't you think of anything good? I think 'Fury' is an excellent name. It describes you perfectly."

"Well the only thing that describes you perfectly is git. Guess'll I just have to call you that."


	4. Chapter 4 The Reach of Tom Riddle

Chapter 4

Ginny listened quietly while Professor Dumbledore explained that Voldemort had left a small part of himself inside of her when he'd possessed her through the diary last year. It was this small part of him that had given her the ability to speak parseltongue and probably lots of other things left to discover.

"I had wondered if this would happen," he confessed. "But these things often take time to reveal themselves and I had no idea if and how it would manifest itself."

"It's rather interesting," he said, stroking his beard, "that parseltongue was an ability he passed along to you."

Ginny must have scoffed because he looked at her over the top of his glasses, his blue eyes twinkling.

"It IS interesting, whether or not you want to admit it," he said mildly. "Perhaps you should ask Mr. Potter how he acquired his ability to speak parseltongue."

"I don't object that it's interesting, Professor," Ginny said, just as mildly. "I object to the use of the word 'ability.' It's much too positive to describe what's happened."

"Parseltongue is an ability very few wizards have," Dumbledore pointed out. "It doesn't have the best reputation but perhaps you and Mr. Potter can change that."

"I'm not likely to be broadcasting the fact that I can talk to snakes," Ginny said, more harshly than she meant to, "especially since I got the ability to do so from a dark wizard."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and rested his hands on the top of his desk. "You have a connection with Tom Riddle," he said bluntly, "I do not think this connection will end until Voldemort himself is gone. We are in uncharted territory here, Miss Weasley. I don't have any idea as to how this will play out."

"What are you trying to say, Professor?"

"I merely wish for you to face the facts, Ginevra. This connection—it may lead to other things and as far as I can tell, there will be no escaping it. You must learn instead, to control it—so that it doesn't control you."

"What sort of things?"

"As I have said, I do not exactly know," Dumbledore said carefully. "But you might find yourself casting unusually powerful spells, or that you have a sudden knowledge of something without actually having studied for it. There is, quite frankly, no way of knowing which parts of himself Voldemort left inside of you. When he possessed you, you shared each other's minds; even though it was the mind of a sixteen year old Voldemort, I imagine his mind was already twisted and evil."

Ginny abruptly stood up and walked over to the window. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at Hagrid's hut, wishing she were visiting him instead of in this office talking about her connection with Voldemort.

She knew exactly what the Headmaster was talking about. She'd already been surprised at the force of some of her spells and once in awhile, school lessons seemed awfully familiar. Ideas and memories often appeared to her out of nowhere; at first she hadn't noticed it but being back in Hogwarts had triggered a whole flood of memories that had never happened to her and Ginny had realized with a sickening certainty that they were left over from her possession last year. Sometimes it felt like something dark and oily had taken root inside of her; during those times, it was all she could do to not lash out at everyone around her. She shivered. It would be all too easy to lose control and let that part of her take over…

"He's sick," she said in a low voice. "Some of the things he's thought and done…I don't think he meant for me see them; he didn't realize the connection would go both ways when he tried to take me completely over."

"I suppose," she murmured, almost to herself, "that if Harry hadn't shown up, it wouldn't have mattered much."

She turned back. "Is there anything else, Professor?"

Dumbledore's eyes searched her face. "No, you may go. Thank you for telling me. I trust you will let me know if anything else unusual happens?"

Ginny nodded and moved towards the door.

"Then I will see you tomorrow morning at breakfast. And Ginny, please know that I am always available, should you require my assistance. You may come speak with me any time you wish, day or night."

Ginny was touched. "Thank you, Professor."

He smiled and Ginny left the room.

Harry was waiting for her at the end of the stairwell. He sprang up when she descended the steps and fell into step beside her as they walked back to the tower.

"You know what he told me?" Ginny said finally.

"If what I suspect is true then he had the exact same conversation with me last June," Harry said dully. "I'm sorry."

Ginny shot a look at him. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about, Harry. This is Tom's doing, not yours."

"I didn't mean it like that," he said carefully. "I just meant that I'm sorry it's happened to you."

"Oh. Well, thanks then." She fell silent. "I'm sorry about your connection as well."

"Yeah, it sucks," Harry said.

Ginny snorted. "That's a bit of an understatement, isn't it?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah."

"Still," he continued after another silent moment, "it's kind of nice."

"Kind of nice," Ginny repeated in disbelief. "Kind of nice!"

"I didn't mean it like that," he said hastily. "I just meant that well…it's nice for me…to have someone to share it with. I'm not the only parselmouth anymore."

"You're not going to tell people, are you?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "But I'll know, and you'll know and well…it'll be like our secret, yeah?"

"Our own little secret language, then," Ginny said dryly.

"Sort of," he admitted. He decided to take a chance and threw a brotherly arm around her shoulders. "It's just another thing we've got in common you know."

"Yes," she murmured. "We seem to have more in common every day."

A week went by and Harry could see that Ginny was as uncomfortable as he had been when he first learned he could talk to snakes; in fact, she seemed to be taking it even worse than he had but he supposed that came from growing up in the wizarding world where such things were taught as evil.

He caught up with her after lunch one day and convinced her to take a walk with him after dinner. He had an idea but he wasn't really sure how to approach her with it. She might think it was stupid.

Harry brought his cloak down to dinner with him and caught Ginny's eye after pudding. He motioned towards the door and she stood up with him. Once outside they walked in silence to the lake. They reached the edge and Harry turned to her.

"I know what you're going through."

Ginny just raised one eyebrow at him.

"But I'm not a dark wizard and neither are you," he plunged on, "and none of this is our fault."

She raised the other eyebrow at him.

"I can see that it bothers you," he insisted, "and believe me, I felt the same way, but-"

"Harry," she interrupted, "what are you getting at?"

Harry deflated and stuck his hands in his pockets. He lifted his elbows in a half-shrug. "All I'm saying is that he's inside me too. I know how you feel."

"I feel dirty," she said suddenly.

"Me too."

"I feel like I'm…tainted."

"Me too."

"Angry. Used. Liable to explode into a dark wizard at any moment."

"Me too. I know. And I understand but I really don't think that's going to happen."

Ginny looked out at the lake. "What if there's too much of him inside of me?" she said in a low voice. "What if there's not enough of me left and he takes control again?"

Harry shook his head. "That's not going to happen. You're too strong for that. Look, Ginny-" he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him, "all this means is that he transferred some of his powers to you. It was an accident on his part and if he'd meant it to do any real harm, he would have transferred a lot more."

"You don't get it," she said quietly. "I still feel him sometimes. It's more than a transference of his powers, it's like he's still there."

Harry nodded, his lips pressed together tightly. "I know," he said. "Believe me, I know. And I think it's always going to be this way, until he's gone for good." He waved a hand towards the lake. "He's still out there, Gin. Biding his time."

"So what do we do?"

"Well," he looked back at her, "I thought it might be fun to really learn how to speak parseltongue."

Ginny looked shocked. "What?"

"Our own secret language," he reminded her sheepishly. "I thought maybe we could practice speaking it to each other, until we're more comfortable with it."

"That-" Ginny stopped and gazed at him searchingly. "That might be okay," she said slowly. "But it will be just between us, right? No one has to know?"

"No one," he assured her.

"So how do we begin?"

"Well, I guess look at me and pretend I'm a snake. Then say something."

Ginny stared at him for several minutes and then began speaking. It took awhile for him to realize that she was speaking parseltongue. He had to really concentrate to hear the hissing when what he really heard was, "My name is Ginny Weasley. I have six over-protective prats for brothers and I'm a student at Hogwarts."

Harry smiled. "Weird." 

"Your turn," she prompted.

"My name is Harry Potter. I don't have any brothers but am related to the dumbest muggles on the planet and have a lovely pet owl."

"Weird," Ginny echoed. "I can't even tell you're speaking parseltongue half the time."

"I know, we're really going to have work on that."

Over the next several weeks, Harry and Ginny took numerous walks together speaking entirely in parseltongue. Several times they actually found a live snake and enjoyed many conversations about the weather in Scotland vs. the weather in Southern England and the differences in the taste between various rodents. They learned slowly to recognize when the other was speaking parseltongue and it was in this way that they got braver and had whispered conversations in the common room when no one else was around. They spent a lot of time together and Harry found it difficult sometimes to keep Ginny's secret. Especially when Ron looked at him funny and Hermione looked at him knowingly whenever he went off with Ginny.

Ginny grudgingly admitted to herself that it was nice. Harry helped her to lose her fear of parseltongue, or rather, lose her fear of the implications of being one of the only two people who could speak to snakes. Ginny decided she had wasted too much time last year worrying about her crush on Harry; she'd been better off being his friend.

Nearly two months later, Harry had skipped dinner because he'd put off his potions essay too long and was scrambling to finish it by the next morning. He barely heard the portrait open and didn't even know anyone had entered the common room until a small hand placed a roast beef sandwich wrapped in a napkin in front of him. He looked up to see Ginny, a small smile on her face.

"Thanks," he said distractedly, taking the sandwich and biting off a chunk. "I was hungry."

"Figured," she said. "Made lots of headway?"

"A bit," he grunted. "Would have made more if I hadn't wasted so much time playing Quidditch the other day." He took another bite of his sandwich. "Or if Hermione would help me. You wouldn't happen to know what happens when one adds asphodel root to essence of wormwood would you?"

"You get a potion that removes warts," Ginny said promptly. She flushed when Harry looked at her in amazement. "Sorry. I don't know how I knew that."

Harry nodded but didn't say anything. Ginny had eventually told him all the details of her conversation with Professor Dumbledore. Since then, he'd often noticed when she spouted random bits of information. He had yet to see an example of increased power however.

Ginny punched him lightly on the shoulder in goodbye and turned to leave. She waved at Ron and Hermione who had just entered the common room and started to walk up the stairs.

"Ginny!" Ron raised his voice. "I want to speak with you."

Harry's head lifted at the angry tone in Ron's voice.

"What is it?" Ginny asked impatiently. "I've got things to do."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Actually I want to speak to you and Harry." He looked over at Harry who lifted in eyebrows in question. Ginny huffed and joined them around Harry's table in front of the fire.

Ron stood, mimicking his sister's pose with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His gaze flitted from Harry, who was still seated, to Ginny who was glaring at him. Harry thought Ron cut a rather imposing figure and he shot a glance at Hermione who smiled worriedly back.

"I want to know where you two keep disappearing off to all the time. Every time I turn around, you two are sneaking away. Did you think we," he gestured between himself and Hermione, "wouldn't notice?"

"Don't bring me into this, Ronald," Hermione interrupted. "I think it's great that Harry and Ginny are friends. You've no right-"

"Just answer the question," Ron interrupted. "Harry?" 

Harry closed his potions book slowly and sat back in his chair, his arms dangling loosely off the sides. "I'm really not sure what the big deal is, Ron. Ginny and I are friends. We're allowed to spend time together."

Ron's eyes narrowed into slits. "Friends? Is that all?"

"Now, wait just a minute-" Ginny said hotly. She stopped short when Harry held up a hand.

"What are you asking us, Ron?"

Ron took a deep breath and said quickly: "Are you dating my sister? My 12-year-old, baby sister?"

Harry had opened his mouth to speak but Ginny would not be silenced. "All right, that's enough," she said sharply. "Harry and I are friends, nothing more. And frankly, it's none of your business what we are; if we were something more, it would be no concern of yours."

"You are my sister," Ron shot back. "It's my job to protect you. I didn't do a bang-up job last year, I know, and I mean to make up for it."

"By protecting me from Harry?" Ginny laughed. "Ron, he's your best mate!"

"I know," Ron shot Harry a small smile. "But you guys are hiding something and I want to know what it is."

Ginny sighed and exchanged glances with Harry. He shook his head imperceptibly; it was her story to tell and he would not interfere. She ran an agitated hand through her hair, pulling out her ponytail as she went.

"Fine," she said after a long moment. "I'll tell you both. But you have to promise to keep it a secret. I don't want the whole bloody castle to know."

"Of course, Ginny," said Hermione. She sounded offended that Ginny would even suggest such a thing.

Ginny checked the room, making sure they were still alone, letting her gaze finally rest on Ron's. Harry wished he could reach out and squeeze her hand in support but he thought she'd probably deck him for thinking she couldn't handle this.

"Two months ago I discovered that I'm a parselmouth," she said, speaking directly to Ron. "It freaked me out and Harry helped me. He took me to see Dumbledore and has spent a good deal of time speaking parseltongue with me so I would be more comfortable with it. That's all we've been doing. Talking to each other and the occasional snake on the grounds. That's it."

Hermione gave a small gasp and Ron's face paled. "You-you-you're a parselmouth," he choked. "Like Harry?"

"Yes," Ginny confirmed. "Like Harry. In fact, just like Harry."

"Oh!" Hermione said, her eyes going wide. "Then did he…give it to you?"

Ginny tore her gaze from Ron's to look down at her friend. "Yes," she said flatly. "He did."

"Who?" Ron managed. "Harry?"

"No, you idiot," Hermione said, "Tom Riddle. Voldemort."

"Don't say that name," Ron said through gritted teeth. "Ginny, I don't understand—what does this mean?"

Ginny gave a louder sigh and shot another look at Harry. He tried to smile encouragingly at her but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Tom Riddle left me some of his powers when he possessed," Ginny summed up. "Just like Voldemort transferred some of his power to Harry when he was a baby."

"But-but only dark wizards are parselmouths," Ron breathed.

"Ronald!"

Harry shot to his feet, ready to defend Ginny, but she shoved him unceremoniously aside and stepped forward.

"Are you saying you think I'm a dark wizard?" she asked her brother quietly.

"No-no, of course not, I just…well, it's true, isn't it?" Ron defended himself.

"It's not true," Harry said in a low voice. "I'm a parseltongue and I'm not a dark wizard."

"Well, no Harry, of course you're not but it's not your fault He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named tried to kill you and passed on some powers…" his voice trailed off when he saw the menacing look come into Harry's eyes.

"Neither is it Ginny's fault," Harry said harshly. "It's not her fault Tom Riddle possessed her. I think you owe your sister an apology."

"For what?!"

"For acting like speaking parseltongue is a bad thing," Hermione insisted. "I honestly don't see what the big deal is. So what if they can talk to snakes, it sounds jolly interesting to me-"

"Interesting," Ron bellowed. "It's an ability passed down from Salazar Slytherin himself Hermione. It's not interesting, it's scary!"

Harry stiffened. He could feel Ginny bristling behind him. He'd expected Ron to be a bit more supportive of his sister. He'd been fairly supportive of Harry last year when everyone found out he could talk to snakes. Why should he treat Ginny any differently?

"I can't take anymore of this git," she said to Harry. "I'm going to my room."

Harry nearly cheered her when he realized she had just spoken to him in parseltongue. Ron's eyes went wide as Ginny hissed at Harry and then stalked off up the girl's staircase.

"I'd better go after her." Hermione shot a scathing look at Ron before following Ginny.

"Ron, mate, you've done it this time," Harry shook his head. "Why did you have to say that?"

"Say what?"

"That it was scary. Merlin, you're thick sometimes. You saw how hard it was for her to even admit it to you; you heard her say she'd been having a difficult time coming to terms with it! How could you say that to her!?"

Ron raised one eyebrow. "Why are you so concerned?"

"Ginny's my friend," Harry said fiercely. "And she doesn't deserve to be treated that way."

"I think how I treat my sister is my own business," Ron pointed out. He fell backwards into a nearby chair with a soft thump. "What's going on here, Harry? I mean, really. Since when are you and Ginny such good friends?"

Harry both hands through his hair agitatedly. "I just…hell, I just respect her so much, Ron. I mean, she's been through hell you know? And she's still here; she's still fighting for something normal. After what she went through last year, she's still funny, kind, thoughtful, when she has every reason to hate the world." He snorted. "And she'd kick your arse and mine put together if we gave her half a reason. She's like-" he searched his brain for the right word, "hell, I don't know what I mean. But I don't think any of us realize how much she controls her-her fury all the time."

"Her fury?"

Harry half smiled. "Yeah. I really think she's furious most of the time. Furious at Tom Riddle, furious at that damn diary, furious at Lucius Malfoy for giving the thing to her, furious at herself, furious at you and me for having to rescue her, furious at her brothers for not paying attention to her last year…"

"Okay, okay." Ron held up a hand. "I get it."

"She even looks like what you'd imagine fury would look like, doesn't she?" Harry mused. "All that red hair. When she's mad, it sort of lights up, you know?"

Ron eyed him critically. "No, I don't know," he said. "Are you crushing on my sister?"

Harry shrugged. "No. Not really. I don't think so. Just…in awe, I suppose. I'm really happy we're getting to be better friends. Despite how much she hates the parseltongue it just added to the list of things we have in common."

He sat down in the chair next to Ron's. "She's really pretty though," he pointed out. "You can't deny that."

Ron snorted. "I will deny that to my dying day."

They fell silent, both contemplating the force that was Ginny. Finally, Ron gave a great sigh.

"I guess, you're right. I'm a git. I should go apologize."

"Of course I'm right," Harry said. "And yes, you're a git. But I think you're going to have to wait until tomorrow to apologize. Guys aren't allowed in the girls' dorms."

"Ron?"

"Yeah, Harry?"

"What was Ginny like when she was a little girl?"

Ron contemplated the question for a moment before grinning. "You know, Harry, I think your word 'fury' sums it up just right."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. She hated being the youngest and the only girl. Mum would try to keep her inside and do girly things with her but she never wanted anything to do with all that stuff. She was always sneaking after us and then, if we were doing something we'd get in trouble for, she'd hold it over our heads until she cashed in the favour. She was a bloody menace. She was sneaky and if she wasn't getting us blamed for the things she did, she was getting out of them by batting her big brown eyes and tossing her pigtails. She had throwing a temper tantrum down to a fine art."

Harry laughed. "I can see that."

"Still, she was awfully cute. We were closest in age so it was often us against the rest of my brothers. We were pretty close growing up; until I came to Hogwarts." Ron looked towards the staircase. "That's why what happened last year is more my fault than Percy's, Fred or George's. I should have noticed."

"It's funny how you both feel so much guilt over what happened when really it wasn't anyone's fault but Voldemort. You want to blame someone, blame him."

Ron heaved a big sigh. "I'll try, Harry. I'll try."

Harry barely saw Ginny over the next several weeks. Ron had yet to apologize to her and she avoided all contact with both of them. Harry couldn't understand why Ginny seemed mad at him; Hermione eventually had to explain that Ginny felt Harry was betraying her because he was speaking to Ron. Harry had shrugged and brushed it off until a few days later when Ginny ignored him in the hallways and he decided the whole thing made him rather angry. Why should he stop being friends with Ron just because Ginny and Ron were fighting? Ron was his best mate. Harry had already stood up for Ginny to her brother. What more did she want from him?

It wasn't until Sunday evening that Harry found himself alone with Ginny in the common room. He had been left behind when Ron, Dean and Seamus snuck down to the kitchens because he had yet to make up dire predictions for his Divination homework.

"Ginny," he began conversationally, "do you think I should die by drowning in the bathtub or be trampled to death by a giant herd of blast-ended skrewts?"

"The latter, I think," she said idly flipping the newspaper. "It's more painful."

"Pain it is then," Harry said cheerfully and he made the notation on his chart.

He scribbled in a few near-death experiences and finally rolled up the parchment, thankful he was finally done. Shoving the parchment into his bag, he left it by the table and went to join Ginny on the couch. She ignored him, even when he stretched out and propped his feet up in her lap.

"Are you ever going to talk to me again?" he asked her in parseltongue.

Ginny looked up startled that he used the snake language when there were other people in the room. Harry found he didn't much care.

"Ron's my best mate," he continued. "You can't expect me to stop being friends with your brother simply because you're mad at him."

"He's a git," she hissed back in a low voice.

Harry took it as a personal triumph that she'd used parseltongue. "Yes, he is," he agreed. "And I told him so. He's been trying to apologize to you for days now but you won't let him."

Ginny sighed in frustration and tossed the Daily Prophet onto a nearby table. "I'm sorry, Harry. You're right. You're allowed to be friends with whomever you want. I just…" her hands curled into fists, "I just want someone to be on my side."

"I am on your side," Harry insisted. "Ron was a total prat. But he knows it and you need to accept his apology."

"He's my brother," she said plainly. "It just makes it worse somehow."

"I know," said Harry sympathetically. "But you really should give him a chance."

Ginny shoved his feet off her lap and twisted around on her seat so that her feet lay on his stomach. He put a hand down and absentmindedly rubbed them.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, switching back to English.

"You ought to be. I didn't do anything except defend you."

"I know," she said. "You've been really great. I just…lost my temper, I suppose."

"You do that a lot," Harry said. "I think I'll call you 'Fury' from now on."

"Fury?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned up at the ceiling. "With that red hair and your temper—you're the personification of fury."

"That's silly," Ginny reached down and pinched his thigh. He retaliated by tickling the bottoms of her feet, which nearly got him a kick in the nose. Soon, they were laughing as each tried to tickle the other. The fight eventually ended when Ginny fell off the couch pulling Harry with her. He landed on top of her with a soft 'oomph.'

"I win, Fury," he drawled, shifting his weight to his arms.

"Don't call me that!" Ginny reached up and tugged at his hair. He grabbed her wrist to stop her just as Ron entered the common room. They both froze.

Ron stood looking down at them with a blank look on his face. Harry rolled off Ginny and quickly got to his feet. Ginny merely sat up, propping herself against the couch, a mask of innocence on her face.

"Um, tickle fight?" Harry explained. Ginny nodded in agreement but Ron didn't look like he believed them.

"Honestly, Ron," Ginny finally huffed, "just what is your—hey!" Ron had reached down and grabbed her under the arm. He hauled her to her feet and dragged up the stairs all the way to the boys' third-year dorm while she protested loudly.

Her brother shoved her inside the room and closed the door behind him. Ginny sat on the edge of the closest bed and crossed her arms over her chest. Brother and sister were silent, watching each other warily.

"He makes you laugh," Ron said finally. He suddenly looked weary.

"Who? Harry?"

Ron nodded. 

"Sometimes." She shrugged. "So what?"

"I haven't heard you really laugh since before last year," Ron clarified.

"Oh, well-"

"Let me finish," Ron held up a hand. "I'm sorry for what I said about you being a parselmouth. I don't really think that; it was just the shock.

"I failed you so spectacularly last year, Ginny," he said earnestly. "I'm trying not to do it again."

"By being suspicious of my friendship with Harry? By looking for signs that I've turned into a dark wizard?"

Ron shook his head. "No, by paying attention to what's going on with you."

"You can't know what's going on with me every minute," said Ginny, an edge of frustration creeping into her voice.

"I know." Ron ran an agitated hand through his hair. "But we used to be friends, you and I. Can't we get back to that? I want you to trust me like you trust Harry."

Ginny titled her head as she considered his request. She hadn't thought about it but he was right—she did trust Harry, despite the odds of her ever wanting to trust anyone again. After all, the last time she'd trusted someone so completely, he'd turned out to be Voldemort.

"Friends," she repeated slowly. "Okay. What about the protective brother bit?"

He smiled sheepishly at her. "I've been trying; haven't you noticed? I didn't even blow up about that little scene down there with Harry. Although I am dying to know-"

"It was nothing," she confirmed. "Just a tickle fight that got out of hand. That's all."

"And there's nothing between you two?"

She shrugged. "We're friends. We've a lot in common, but no, nothing beyond that."

"What about your little crush on him last year? Don't try to deny it, even I wasn't that thick."

"I'm not denying it," she said hotly. "But it's over. We're friends. He knows that."

"Fine, fine," Ron said, holding up his hands and backing away. "Just checking."

"So are we done here?" Ginny pushed herself off the bed and walked over to the door.

"Yeah, except-" Ron hesitated and then took a step closer to her. He tentatively put his arms around her shoulders and gave her a small, awkward hug. She returned the hug, just as awkwardly and they both left the room considerably lighter than they had before.

Later that night, Harry was searching through his trunk for a spare bit of parchment when he noticed that his invisibility cloak was missing. He panicked for a short while before he remembered that Ginny had been in the room earlier in the afternoon. In fact, now that thought about it, he hadn't seen Ginny at all after her talk with Ron. Would she have taken it?

He quickly got out the map and scanned the parchment for Ginny's dot. She was in the Astronomy Tower. He checked his watch. It was still before curfew. He could just make it.

Ten minutes later, Harry entered a seemingly empty Astronomy Tower. He knew Ginny was there. He smelled a familiar flowery scent in the room.

"I know you're here," he said confidently. "And next time you might ask before you nick my cloak.

A swish of fabric revealed Ginny at the window. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "I didn't think you'd mind."

"I don't," he said honestly. "But still, I'd like to be asked."

"Sorry," she said again, unnecessarily.

"Everything okay?" Harry was taking a tremendous chance with this question. Their relationship so far had been based on mutual understanding and similar experiences. Despite their many conversations over the past few months, they hadn't spent a lot of time on 'feelings.'

"I'm fine," she reassured him. "Just thinking."

"About what?" He joined her at the window.

She shot a sidelong glance at him. "Nosy aren't we?"

"Look, Ginny," he said firmly. "I'm trying to be your friend here. You might meet me halfway and tell me what's troubling you. I might be able to help."

"I just feel," she waved a hand, "weird. Life is changing and I know I won't ever get it back. My brother wants to be my friend; my mother sends me letters and avoids all mention of what she really wants to ask, namely, 'am I being possessed this year?' Fred and George make every effort to not treat me with kid gloves but it only makes it apparent that they are. My professors look at me weirdly, I've got regular nightmares about Voldemort. Oh yeah, and I've also got a connection to said dark wizard which allows me to speak parseltongue along with as yet undiscovered abilities."

She took a deep breath and turned to Harry. "I know I'm the whiniest bitch on the planet but when did everything spiral out of my control, Harry? I feel like an adult trapped in a child's body. I've got nothing in common with anyone my own age…"

Her voice trailed off and Harry was struck again with a sudden clarity that this was what Dumbledore had been trying to tell him last year. Who else but someone who had been there could understand what she meant?

"I've said this before and I will repeat it until I am blue in the face or until you get it," he said fiercely. "I. Understand."

"He took so much from me," Ginny said softly. "I don't know if I'll ever get it back."

Harry shrugged. "So what? You'll replace those things with something else." He took a step closer so their shoulders were just brushing.

"He left the important stuff, Ginny. You still have a family who loves you, friends, a sense of humour…" Harry's voice trailed off. He'd never had to comfort someone before; perhaps he was doing a crap up job.

"Maybe," Ginny said.

"Maybe nothing," he snorted. "Look, things would have been different if last year never happened, sure. And who knows what kind of person I'd be if my parents had survived and I never had to go live with my Aunt and Uncle? But there's no point in such speculation. This is who we are; and for whatever reason, this is who we were meant to be. We have to learn to live with what we've been given; otherwise, what's the point, Gin?"

She was silent for a moment and then she turned to him, the beginnings of a smile on her face. "You make a lot of sense for a boy, Potter."

Harry was relieved. He felt like he was flying by the seat of his pants; what he'd said had been extremely sappy and he wondered where it came from. If Hermione had heard him, she would have been so proud.

"Feel better?"

"A little. It's going to take a while to get used to," she said. "Everything is so different that what I thought it would be. For example, who knew we would ever be friends like this?"

He nudged her with his elbow. "You mean because of your massive crush on me?"

She nudged him back just as hard. "Git. That's not what I mean. Besides, you know I'm over that."

"Great. I'll go tell the butter dishes it's safe to come out now."

"Harry Potter!"

Harry laughed and skipped nimbly out of her reach. She lunged again but he moved away just in time. He laughed at her from across the room. "Okay, I'm sorry. I take it back."

"And you'll never mention that," she shuddered, "incident again?"

"I promise," he swore. He moved back over to stand next to her. "Can I try something?"

She looked at him warily.

"What?"

"It's just something new I want to try," he said mildly. "It's part of the new sensitive Harry Potter. I've never done this before so I may be rubbish; you let me know what you think."

Harry stepped even closer to her and slowly slid both arms around her. He pulled her against him, her head tucked underneath his chin, and squeezed gently. It was the first time he'd ever hugged a girl; Hermione usually hugged him but he'd never initiated it.

Harry was amazed when he could feel Ginny's tense body slowly relaxing. Her body did this weird melting sort of thing until she was moulded against the front of him. Her arms slid around his waist and, astonishingly, she squeezed back until they were hugging each other. His head dropped onto her shoulder of its own accord and his arms wrapped themselves tighter around her tiny body. Harry felt sort of tingly, as if some age-old instinct had awoken in him. His body seemed to know what to do before his brain did.

Eventually, Ginny gave a small sigh and extracted herself from his arms. Harry felt dazed. Hugging Hermione, as nice as it was, was never like that.

"That-" Ginny cleared her throat, "that was really nice, Harry. Thank you."

He could only nod in response. "Any time," he finally managed to say.

Ginny raised her eyes at him but didn't comment. Instead, she gathered the invisibility cloak from where she'd dropped it on the floor and held it up. "We'll have to go together. It's past curfew."

He nodded and took the cloak from her, spreading it out and holding one corner of it up so she could slide underneath. They moved silently together, Ginny in front as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. There was a tenseness between them that had not existed before the hug in the Astronomy Tower and Harry felt determined to move past it.

"Just so you know," he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "if we get caught, I'm shoving you out of the cloak and taking off."

"Not if I shove you first," she whispered back.

"Oh, please," Harry scoffed. "A tiny thing like you? I could take you."

"I may be small, but I'm mighty," she warned.

Harry grinned. "I know, Fury, believe me, I know."

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry, but I don't have a choice. The name has stuck, you see."

"How would you like it if I thought of a horrible nickname for you?"

Harry shrugged. "Do your worst."

"Scarhead?"

"Too Malfoy."

"Specky-four-eyes?"

"Too juvenile."

"Heir of Slytherin?"

"Too..."

"Right. Sorry. Bad joke."

"Can't you think of anything good? I think 'Fury' is an excellent name. It describes you perfectly."

"Well the only thing that describes you perfectly is git. Guess'll I just have to call you that."


	5. Chapter 5 The Whomping Willow

Chapter 5

"Harry, do think there's something wrong with Hermione?" Ginny asked the question in a low undertone so that Hermione, who was absentmindedly eating while reading a thick textbook, wouldn't overhear.

Harry swallowed his bite of sandwich and frowned at Hermione, examining her with a critical eye. "She does look a bit tired."

"What do you suppose she's up to?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

"Why do you suppose she's up to anything?"

"Dunno. She's been acting weird though. Prone to stress out, popping up at strange times."

Harry chewed thoughtfully. "Yeah, I have kind of noticed that."

Ron entered just then and joined them at the lunch table. "Oi, what's wrong with Hagrid?"

Harry, Ginny and Hermione, none of whom had noticed the gamekeeper crying into his pumpkin juice, looked up at the staff table.

"Why is Hagrid crying?" Ginny asked.

Hermione gasped. "Oh no! We forgot!" She looked at Ron and Harry. "Buckbeak!" 

"Shite," Ron cursed. He slumped down on the bench next to Hermione. "Was that today?"

"I think it was yesterday," Harry grimaced. "I guess it didn't go well."

"What about Buckbeak?"

"Malfoy's father insisted he was a dangerous animal and is trying to have him put down," Harry explained to Ginny. "There was a hearing yesterday at the Ministry to decide what to do with him."

"We promised Hagrid we'd help him with the defence," Hermione said worriedly. "We didn't help very much though."

Harry and Ron looked ashamed. "I forgot," Ron said quietly.

"You should go visit him after dinner," Ginny said decisively.

"Yeah." Harry nudged her. "Wanna come with?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. She didn't do well tagging along; but Harry and Hermione were her friends and Ron was her brother—maybe it was time she gave this being Ron's friend thing a chance. She shot Ron a glance.

"Sure, I guess."

"Great." Harry smiled brilliantly at her and she ruffled his hair affectionately before tossing back the last of her tea and grabbing her satchel. "Gotta run. Potions next."

Ron groaned in sympathy but Ginny shrugged. "Actually Snape and I get along okay. I think he appreciates my wit."

"You're letting your whole house down, I hope you know that," Harry told her.

She wrinkled her nose at him and left.

After a quick dinner, the four Gryffindors walked down to Hagrid's hut. None of them were supposed to be out on the school grounds—particularly Harry after Sirius Black's attack earlier in the year so they went quickly and quietly.

"The Minister of Magic is coming by to execute Buckbeak today," Hermione had told them as they left the Great Hall. "It was in the Daily Prophet."

Harry walked closely to Ginny and she was startled to realize that he was hovering sort of protectively as they moved through the grounds—he sheltered her from the open doorways and moved behind her when he could have gone in front. She started to become irritated but just as she turned around to point out that she could be sneaky without his help, she noticed the tension in his face and the way his eyes never stood still as they swept the area.

Ginny watched with a growing fascination as Harry and Ron instinctively coordinated in some age-old male ritual. Even though Ginny wasn't Harry's and Hermione wasn't (yet) Ron's, the boys divided up the responsibilities in "protecting" them; Ginny thought it odd that Harry naturally chose her when Ron, her own brother, was standing right there—not that he seemed to notice. Her brother was too busy sheltering Hermione.

She didn't have much time to mull over the puzzle but she was immensely glad when, after the group had come across Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle spying and laughing over Buckbeak's intended execution, Hermione punched Malfoy solidly in the face—proving that she could take care of herself. Ron admirably backed off then but Ginny wasn't sure he'd even noticed he'd done so.

She shot an irritated look at Harry who didn't really deserve but it made her feel better anyway.

Her heart broke when she saw Buckbeak chained outside Hagrid's home. She bowed slowly to him and when the hippogriff acknowledged her desire to approach, she moved closer and stroked his soft feathery head gently.

"Things that are born to fly shouldn't be chained down," she murmured to no one in particular; but Harry heard her.

"It's awful," he agreed.

She looked at him then and saw the pain of understanding flash across his face. She was reminded suddenly of the story Ron and the twins had told her mum two summers ago when they'd broken Harry out of his Aunt and Uncle's house. There'd been bars on his window; a flap in the door through which food had been shoved and Hedwig had been locked in her cage for the entire summer—while she, Ginny, had spent the entire summer sneaking down to the broom shed behind her house and going for midnight flies.

She looked back at Buckbeak, thinking the Hippogriff and Harry were similar—they had both been born to fly and neither had the freedom to do so as much as they wanted.

"Coming?" Harry asked, motioning towards Hagrid's hut.

Ginny hesitated, combing her fingers through Buckbeak's feathers. "I think I'll stay with him," she said. "I can't stand the idea of leaving him alone."

Harry nodded as if he understood. "Fine, but if you hear voices you need to hide—it'll probably be the Minister and Dumbledore. I don't want you to get in trouble."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself, Harry. Stop mothering me."

"Mothering you? I'm not! I just wanted to be sure-"

"What was all that earlier then?" she asked shrewdly. "You were acting like I'd never snuck around on the grounds before, like I couldn't walk to Hagrid's hut myself even."

Harry's mouth opened and closed in a rather comical manner and his eyes bugged out at her. "I was not!" he said defensively. "I wasn't doing anything of the sort."

"You may not have realized what you were doing, but you did it anyway," she said, knowingly. "Face it, Harry, you still think of me as a little girl."

"That is not true," he said instantly. "Ginny, I swear."

"So go on in, then," she challenged. She nodded towards Hagrid open door where Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. "Leave me out here alone."

Harry's mouth snapped shut and he looked at her suspiciously. "Is this some sort of test?"

"Yes."

He sighed. "Fine, but if you get detention-"

"Then I'll serve it and be done with it," she insisted. "Now go on. I'll be fine."

He squeezed her shoulder as he passed by and entered the house leaving Ginny and Buckbeak alone in the pumpkin patch. She leaned against the hippogriff, her ear pressed against his neck. She could hear Buckbeak's rapid heartbeat and couldn't quite face the fact that soon his heartbeat would cease.

Ginny felt an affinity for all living creatures after nightmares of killing roosters plagued her in her sleep. She couldn't believe she'd taken a life…even if it was an animal.

It wasn't too long before she heard voices approaching. Immediately, she ducked behind Hagrid's large vegetables and waited for Harry and the others to come out the back door of the hut. She joined them at the edge of the forest and the four of them quickly walked back towards the castle. 

When they reached a safe distance, they paused and looked back, unable to not watch Buckbeak's final moments. When the black masked executioner came out of the hut and raised his axe, Ginny turned around and faced the other direction.

Harry looked down at her in concern and absentmindedly placed an arm around her waist. She clutched his forearm around her navel and they both flinched when the axe gave a large thump.

Hermione gave a small sob and buried her face in Ron's shoulder, who for once didn't shy away awkwardly when she touched him. Harry's grip around Ginny's waist tightened and she was soon pressed up against his side.

"Are you okay," he asked finally. He looked at her then and down at his arm and flushed a little.

Ginny followed his gaze and suddenly realized their intimate position. She was momentarily mesmerized by sight of Harry's larger arm around her suddenly tiny-looking waist.

"Thanks," she said, stepping back.

Harry let his arm fall back down to his side and smiled sheepishly at her. "Sorry."

"It's fine," she assured him. And it really was. Her skin tingled underneath her clothing where his arm had been.

He smiled again and she was just about to say that she hadn't minded him comforting her when Ron gave a yelp and clutched at his finger.

"Scabbers bit me!" he shouted. "Hey! Scabbers! Come back!"

He set off down the hill after his pet rat—that Ginny was surprised to see alive as she thought Crookshanks had eaten him—and Harry and Hermione followed. Ginny followed at a more leisurely pace until they reached the Whomping Willow.

"Damn!" Ron cursed as he lunged for Scabbers. He managed to grab him by the tail and swing him up in his arms. The rat squirmed for freedom but Ron held firm.

"What's gotten into you?" He turned as Harry, Hermione and just behind them, Ginny ran up.

"Is your finger okay?" Hermione asking, gasping to catch her breath.

Ron held it up for her inspection. "I dunno what's going on with him. He's usually very calm."

"Well, he is twelve years old," Ginny pointed out. She frowned as she said it. Should rats, even magical ones, live that long? The oddness of it had never occurred to her until now.

"Harry!" Ron yelled and pointed to something behind him.

Harry barely had time to turn around before a large, black, shaggy dog bounded out of the growing darkness and went straight for Ron. He grabbed him by the leg and growled, shaking his head and tugging Ron towards the Whomping Willow.

"Ron!" Harry lunged after his friend but the dog, the grim, whatever it was, had Ron in a firm grip and he dragged him closer to the tree's trunk.

Ginny froze in horror, certain that the dog was dragging Ron to certain death; if the Whomping Willow started moving, it would smash them to bits.

To everyone's surprise, Crookshanks streaked into view just then. The ball of orange fluff ran past Harry and jumped over the dog and Ron. The cat darted forward and pressed a paw on a knot of tree at the base of the trunk. The tree immediately stilled and the black dog was able to drag Ron closer to the tree where they soon disappeared into a previously hidden tunnel.

"Harry!" Ron's cry echoed back at them but was soon swallowed up as he disappeared down the tunnel.

Harry lay panting on the ground; he'd made a final, desperate attempt to grab Ron's hand as soon as he'd realized what was happening. But the whole thing was over so quickly, he'd never had a chance.

"Damn!" Harry cursed and got his feet.

Hermione looked up in horror as the tree above their heads gave a loud groan and shook itself, awakening from the stasis Crookshanks had sent it into.

The tree limbs stretched for Harry, Ginny and Hermione but only Ginny was able to jump out of the way as Harry and Hermione were both smacked on the side by angry arms of the limbs.

"Oof." Hermione flew backwards only to be hit in the back from another flailing limb. With a strength that surprised Ginny, she managed to hang on to the next branch that came for her and soon the tree had picked Hermione up and was swinging her around like a rag doll.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted. He felt on the ground for his glasses that had been knocked off when the Willow had hit him but just as he found them, the branches found him. Soon, the Whomping Willow was tossing around both Hermione and Harry.

Ginny dodged and ducked flying tree limbs until she could get a safe distance away. She didn't even stop to think, didn't worry that she wouldn't be able to perform the spell correctly. The words formed in her head before she even finished pulling out her wand.

"Immobilus!" She shouted, the spell slicing through the air like a sword towards the trunk of the tree. She felt the power shoot out of her and hit the tree with a smack that rendered it completely immobile. Harry and Hermione fell to the ground with dual thumps.

"Ow!" Hermione complained while Harry groaned from the ground on the other side of the tree.

Ginny didn't know whom to run to first so she chose Hermione who was closest. "C'mon," she said, helping the girl to sit up. "Get it together; we've got to go after Ron."

"Ron," Hermione whimpered. She struggled to her feet, one hand pressed against her ribs. "Do you think he's all right?"

"Yes," Ginny said grimly. She had to believe that. He was her brother, she could believe nothing less.

She propped Hermione against the trunk of the tree and stepped lightly on the knot that Crookshanks had pushed with his paw, revealing a passageway underneath the tree and keeping the tree still just in case her spell ran out. She hurried over to Harry and helped him to his feet after finding his glasses and slipping them back on his face.

"Thanks, Fury," he managed. "That was some spell."

She grinned and brushed the leaves off his back. "Just a little something special from our favourite dark wizard, I guess."

"Finally," Harry said, grabbing her hand and leading her over to Hermione and the tunnel, "that git came in handy."


	6. Chapter 6 The Shrieking Shack

A/N: For the purposes of this fanfic, please assume that Professor Lupin still taught Harry the Patronus. I don't mention it here but it still happened.

Chapter 6

Harry, Ginny and Hermione soon reached the end of the tunnel that surprisingly opened up in the Shrieking Shack at the edge of Hogsmeade. They emerged onto the ground floor of the swaying and groaning building.

"Look." Hermione pointed to scuff marks where the dust had been disturbed. "It looks like the dog dragged Ron through here."

They hurried down a hallway and through a doorway. To Ginny's relief, Ron was sitting up on a bed with his trouser leg torn away to reveal bloody teeth marks in his flesh. He was still clutching Scabbers with one hand.

"Ron!" Harry rushed over to him. "Are you all right?"

"H-Harry! It's a trap!" Ron pointed a shaky finger behind them. "He's an animagus!"

"A what?" Harry asked blankly.

But it was too late for any warning. Ginny watched as the black dog that had dragged Ron away turned into Sirius Black. He was thin and shabby -- much like the dog he turned into. His clothes were in rags. His teeth were rotting, and he had a maniacal look in his eyes that Ginny imagined anyone would have after twelve years in Azkaban.

He pointed Ron's wand at them, and both Hermione and Ginny moved in front of the boys -- Ron because he was injured and Harry because Sirius Black was supposed to be after him.

"You're going to have go through us if you want Harry," Hermione said bravely.

Sirius gave a sharp bark of laughter. "I don't want Harry," he rasped. His voice sounded like it hadn't been used in days, maybe weeks. "I want that damned rat."

"Scabbers?" Ron asked in shock. "Why on earth would you want Scabbers? He's just a rat."

"He's not just a rat," Sirius spat.

Ginny listened in a growing horror as the stray thought she'd had earlier about Scabbers was not only confirmed, but expanded upon until it was a sordid story of betrayal that ended with James and Lily Potter's death and Sirius Black's imprisonment for a crime he hadn't committed. She wasn't sure she believed Sirius Black about Scabbers really being Peter Pettigrew in disguise, but then Professor Lupin burst in. After he had shockingly taken Harry's wand away, Lupin had hugged Black like a brother.

She was pretty sure Professor Lupin wouldn't hug someone who was so untrustworthy.

She looked over at Harry. His face was a mask of uncertainty as he listened to his father's former friend's attempts to convince him that Sirius Black had not betrayed his parents to Voldemort. She could tell that he didn't know what to think or whom to believe.

Ginny took a step back so she was standing closer to him. "It makes sense, Harry," she murmured quietly in parseltongue. Harry kept his eyes fastened on the scene in front of them but he nodded imperceptibly.

She thought maybe he was just about to give Sirius and Lupin a chance but then Professor Snape entered the room. Ginny thought the Potions Professor might actually explode with his own arrogance. Ron was desperately holding on to an increasingly squirming Scabbers, and she noticed Harry slowly reaching for Hermione's wand in the back of her jeans.

Ginny reached for her own wand that she had slid up inside her jacket sleeve. No one was paying attention to her anyway. Black, Lupin and Snape were all shouting at each other but Snape had a wand and they didn't. She sighed. This was getting them nowhere.

She pointed her wand at the same time Harry pointed Hermione's.

"Expelliarmus!" They both shouted the spell at the same time and the combined force of it struck Snape square in the chest. He flew backward into the wall and collapsed to the floor. Harry caught Snape's wand as it flew towards them; his seeker's finger plucking it smoothly from the air.

Keeping her wand trained on a mutually agog Lupin and Black, Ginny walked over to Snape's prone body and nudged it in the ribs with her foot.

"Think you hit him hard enough, Potter?" she asked, feeling for Snape's pulse.

Harry tucked Snape's wand in his back pocket and summoned his own wand back to him before handing Hermione her wand. He walked over to stand next to her and they both looked down at Snape.

"I like the guy, Gin, I really do. But you know we never really connected."

"Well, I don't think this is the way to go about it," she commented.

"Harry!" Hermione breathed, finally finding her voice. "You hit a teacher!"

"I know, Hermione," Harry's voice was hard. "But I think we need to hear what they've got to say." He nodded at Sirius Black and Professor Lupin.

"Talk."

Ginny kept one arm around her brother's waist and used the other to hold his arm around her neck. Hermione was on the other side, and they were both helping Ron to traverse the rocky ground of the tunnel between the Whomping Willow and the Shrieking Shack. Professor Lupin and Sirius Black were carrying a still unconscious Professor Snape.

Ginny was pretty sure they didn't mean to keep hitting his head on the roots above them.

Just as Harry wasn't purposefully bumping a stunned and levitated Peter Pettigrew on every rock in sight; he may have stopped Sirius from killing him, but concussions -- apparently -- were just fine.

Pettigrew had almost gotten away after Sirius had said the spell that forced his transformation from Scabbers to human again. When he'd admitted to being the secret-keeper that had betrayed James and Lily Potter, Ginny had felt an upswing of anger inside of her that had been shocking. It was because of this snivelling, weak, pathetic man that James and Lily Potter died; it was sad for two people who had died as bravely as they had. It was because of Peter Pettigrew that Harry'd had to grow up without parents that loved him.

She had looked at Harry just then and when she had seen the pain in his eyes, she hadn't even thought twice; she'd simply pulled her wand again and stunned the piss out of Peter Pettigrew.

"Sorry," she had said when everyone looked at her in shock. "I just got tired of his whining."

Harry smirked at her. "Thanks, Fury."

Sirius had just looked at them in a combination of admiration and confusion, but Hermione had rolled her eyes and organized the transport of Ron and the two stunned bodies back to Hogwarts.

"I'm your godfather, you know," she heard Sirius saying now to Harry. "You can come live with me…you know, if you want."

If Harry thought he was hiding the joy on his face, he was wrong. But maybe he wasn't even trying, Ginny decided. They reached the end of the tunnel and climbed back out underneath the Whomping Willow. Ron grunted and cursed when he had to put some weight on his bad leg. Hermione tutted sympathetically, and Ron's chest immediately puffed out as he basked in her fussing over him. It was Ginny's turn to roll her eyes.

She caught Harry's eye and motioned towards Ron and Harry with her chin, mimicking a gagging motion. He smiled and held out his hand for her to join him. She ignored the hand but stepped over.

"Sirius, this is Ginny Weasley," Harry made the introduction. "Ginny, this is Sirius. Did you know he was my godfather?"

She shook her head. "No, but how wonderful for you both." She shook Sirius' hand solemnly. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I don't know when I've had a more exciting evening."

"Ah, sarcasm, lovely," Sirius said. "I've missed the company of people."

"I think you'll find Fury's got quite a bit of sarcasm," Harry grinned broadly. "It's kind of her thing."

"Fury?"

Ginny scowled and stomped on Harry's toes. "It's just a nickname," she told Sirius. "A horrible nickname."

"Still, from what I've seen, it's aptly done," he said.

Harry laughed, but the sound was cut short when Hermione shouted and pointed to Professor Lupin.

The fact that their beloved Professor Lupin was a werewolf had been quite a shock to Ginny, but she hadn't really thought of the implications until she watched him change into an actual werewolf. Then he ceased to be their mild-mannered Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and turned into something else entirely.

Sirius immediately changed back into a dog and bounded towards his old friend. He tried to drive him away from the area, but Lupin as a werewolf was just a bit stronger.

Time seemed to slow for Ginny when Lupin lunged towards Harry. She knew she couldn't stop a werewolf but she also knew she couldn't let Lupin hurt Harry. Just as Harry reached for her arm to shove her aside, she slipped out of his grip and shoved back at him until he fell to the ground. She stood in front of him and pointed her wand at the charging werewolf. She had no idea what she was doing.

The spell was whispered into her mind at the last possible second. "Protego!" she shouted and a soft pink shield sprang out of her wand and covered them. The werewolf lunged a moment later and hit the shield with such force, Ginny felt it waver and shake. Lupin stepped back. The barrier confused him, but he tried again.

Ginny cried out as the shield threatened to break. The strength of holding it made her arm quiver, and just when she thought she couldn't hold it a minute longer, Sirius found his feet and ran at Lupin, driving him back from Harry and Ginny.

Ginny stumbled back as she let the shield drop. She reached for Harry then, not comprehending the terror in his eyes as he looked past her shoulder. 

"Ginny!" She heard someone scream her name and had the vague impression of snarling teeth before someone or something smacked her across the shoulder, and she fell across Harry. Her head hit something sharp, and the stars above her swam for only a moment before they went dark.

Harry shifted in his chair, wishing the last three hours of stiffness hadn't taken permanent root in his back. He looked over at his own bed in the hospital wing that Madam Pomfrey had shuttled him into the moment he and Hermione had returned from rescuing Sirius. Madam Pomfrey thought they'd been there the whole time, but Harry hadn't had the time or inclination to explain it to her. This whole going back in time thing was very confusing.

At any rate, she had quickly sent them all to bed. Hermione had fallen into her bed next to Ginny's quite gratefully, but Harry had been unable to sleep -- despite the soft snores of Ron in the bed next to him that usually lulled him into oblivion.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that look in Ginny's eyes. That one, brief look as their eyes met before she'd turned away to face a charging werewolf. It had been a look of determination…of fierceness and a little bit of terror. She'd met Lupin head-on with her magical shield and protected them -- protected him -- from attack. He would never forget the sight of her standing above him, her arm outstretched, her wand pointed and the expression on her face hard with concentration. With her red hair swirling around her, she'd looked like some sort of avenging pagan warrior.

Ginny stirred, and he reached out to grasp her hand in his.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she moved her head gingerly to look at him.

"Am I a werewolf?"

Harry let out a soft snort of laughter. "No, Fury. Not even close."

She sighed and relaxed against her pillows. "Thank Merlin." She shifted and wincing, lifted a hand to the back of her tender head.

"What happened?"

"You hit your head," Harry told her. "Right after Lupin got free of Sirius and charged at you again. He got you on your shoulder," he indicated the bandages on her right side. "But Madam Pomfrey says that it'll only leave a scar since he didn't bite you."

"And Lupin? Is he okay? What about Sirius?"

Harry grimaced. "Sirius is gone. After he drove Lupin away, Peter Pettigrew escaped and Snape woke up and captured Sirius again."

"What?"

Harry waved a hand. "It's okay…well, not okay…but better. Hermione and I used her time-turner to go back and save Sirius and Buckbeak. They took off together."

Ginny's muddled mind raced -- she could think of a thousand questions to ask, each one more complicated than the last. She settled for the simplest one she could think of: "What's a time-turner?"

Harry sat back and propped his legs up on the bed beside her. "You'd better get comfortable if you want to hear the whole story."

Ginny shifted her sore shoulder and head on the bed and listened while Harry told her how Cornelius Fudge had scheduled the Dementor's Kiss for Sirius. In order to save him, Harry and Hermione had gone back in time, set Buckbeak free, fought off a hundred Dementors, and freed Sirius from his tower prison before saying goodbye to him and Buckbeak.

"Hell, Harry," Ginny grumbled. "You could have woken me."

Harry shook his head. "No way. You did enough." He let his feet drop back down to floor with a thump. "Now, let's talk about you throwing yourself in front of me and a werewolf."

Ginny eyes narrowed. "I know you aren't going to yell at me for saving your arse."

Harry got up and sat on the edge of her bed. "Actually, I was hoping we could try that hugging thing again?"

Ginny nodded warily, and Harry moved so that he was lying down on his side next to her. He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her closer. She was stiff at first but then he felt her do that weird melting thing like she'd done before, and Harry began to feel very comfortable.

He laid his cheek on top of her head and hugged her tighter. "Your hair smells good," he mumbled.

She chuckled into his shoulder. "Thanks."

"Ginny," Harry stopped and swallowed. "Thank you. I've never seen anything like that before. The way you just stood up to him, the spell you used…it was amazing."

He felt her shrug in his arms and he couldn't help place a small kiss on her temple. It was odd -- he'd never had an inclination to do that to anyone before.

"So, we've both saved each other's lives, now. Do we get some sort of medal?"

She pulled back and looked up at him. "Like a friendship medal?" Her eyes were laughing at him.

He grinned. "Yeah. Wonder what it would look like?"

"Probably pretty sappy," she said. "Bunnies and hearts on it or something."

He gave a shudder. "Please, no bunnies."

She laughed and he hugged her again before rolling onto his back. He kept one arm around her shoulders and she laid her head on his collarbone.

It was scary how comfortable this felt; how natural they were. Harry had never been that good with girls, but this felt different. Ginny was definitely a girl, but Harry didn't feel awkward and clumsy around her.

Ginny felt herself growing sleepy again. "Harry?" she yawned.

"Yeah, Gin?"

"I'm sorry about Sirius. Guess you won't get to live with him now?"

"No," he said regretfully. "But at least he's free."

"And Buckbeak," she reminded him.

"Do you think we'll see him again?"

"Of course," she said sleepily. "He's your godfather. He's not going to just abandon you right after he's found you."

She yawned again and snuggled into his side. "I'll never leave you, Harry. I'll always be your friend."

Harry looked down at her in amusement. "I think that potion is starting to go to your head."

Ginny looked up at him in confusion. "Maybe. What did I just say? Was it sappy?"

"Yeah, but it's okay. Go to sleep."

"Night, Harry."

"Night, Fury."

Harry kept his arm around Ginny as she fell asleep. He could not help but feel that something -- their friendship, perhaps -- had just been cemented in ways he wasn't sure he yet fully understood.


	7. Chapter 7 The World Quidditch Cup

Chapter 7

Harry sighed in satisfaction as he approached the Burrow with Mr. Weasley. It'd been a long summer with his Aunt and Uncle. His friends had only been allowed to contact him occasionally because the Dursleys didn't like owls flying in and out of Number 4 Privet Drive. With few letters, the summer had dragged on interminably. Ron and Hermione had written as regularly as they could, but Ginny had written only a few times. Her letters had been like her: lively, sassy and littered with curse words.

The last letter from Ron had been the best. "_The World Quidditch Cup!"_ Ron had written._"Can you believe it?"_

Mr. Weasley had been able to procure tickets to this year's Quidditch Cup and had invited Harry to join them. He couldn't decide which made him more excited -- the Quidditch Cup or that he was done with the Dursleys for the summer.

He grinned at Ron as his friend held open the door to the Burrow. Damn, he was looking forward to the next three weeks.

"Harry!" Hermione jumped up from the kitchen table and hugged him. After Mrs. Weasley's greeting hug, Harry wasn't sure he would have any feeling left in his arms but Hermione managed to squeeze the last few nerve endings.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked after he'd escaped Mrs. Weasley's attempts to feed him and caught up with Ron and Hermione. Hermione had arrived at the Burrow only a few days before, and she was full of stories of her trip to France.

"Upstairs," Hermione said. "She was still sleeping when I came down." She lowered her voice. "She's a right bitch to wake up in the morning."

Ron choked on his sandwich. "Hermione! I can't believe you said that!"

Hermione flushed. "Sorry, Ginny's been a bad influence on me, I guess."

Harry laughed and pushed back his chair from the table. "I'm gonna take my trunk upstairs and find her."

Ron helped Harry drag his trunk up to his room and left him alone to unpack. When he'd finished, Harry went down one flight of stairs and knocked on Ginny's partially open door.

"Come in."

Harry pushed open the door with his foot and stood leaning in her doorway, his hands in his pockets. "Hey, Fury."

Ginny, who was sitting at her desk brushing her hair, turned around with a bright smile.

"Harry!" She set the hairbrush down and walked across the room to greet him. "I didn't realize you'd arrived!"

It was a bit awkward at first. Harry wasn't quite sure how to greet her, but Ginny solved that problem by saying, "Fuck it," and throwing her arms around his neck.

"Wow," he managed. "A hug initiated by Ginny Weasley. It must be my lucky day."

She pulled back and wrinkled her nose at him. "Shut it." She hugged him again, and as she pulled away she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"I – um – I missed you," she said, backing away. She looked everywhere but at him and Harry knew the admission had cost her.

Without realizing what he was doing, he put a hand on her shoulder and let it slide down her arm to her hand where he laced their fingers together. "Me too. I thought you'd write more."

She looked a little guilty. "I'm sorry. I know I should have -- but I'm not one for writing I'm afraid."

"It's okay," he assured her. "Neither am I. But the treacle tart was great. So were the dungbombs. Thanks."

"Did you set them off?" She dragged him into her room and shoved him on the bed while she sat back down at her desk and resumed brushing her hair.

"Yeah, right before I left," he said. "I think your dad knew what was going on, but the Dursleys were so rude to him that he pretended not to notice."

She grinned at him in the mirror. Harry found himself mesmerized by her hair as she continued to brush it. Long strokes with her brush made it shine, and he could smell that same scent he'd smelled back in June when they'd been in the hospital wing. He had the strongest urge to bury his face in it.

"Should I leave you alone with my hair?" Ginny asked an amused tone in her voice.

"Would you?" he teased. "Sorry, it's just -- I've never seen a girl brush her hair before. Guys don't really spend a lot of time brushing their hair."

"Well, I can see how it wouldn't do much good for _your_ hair." She held out her brush. "Would you like to brush it?"

Harry stared at the brush in her hand. "I don't know how."

She tsked and stood up. "I'll show you." She climbed onto the bed and kneeled behind him. "Lean back," she instructed.

Harry leaned back cautiously until he could feel Ginny's thighs against his back. She placed one hand on top of his head and began brushing with the other. Over and over she stroked back the hair from his head in every direction. The bristles of the brush were stiff and made a pleasant scratching feeling on his scalp. The gesture seemed intimate, and Harry didn't want to talk and break the spell.

"How's that?"

"Feels good," he sighed. "Never knew what I was missing out on, did I?"

Ginny's heart broke a little; her mother had been brushing her hair since she could remember. It was a mother thing to do -- she couldn't imagine Petunia Dursley ever doing such a thing for her nephew. It was a small thing but one Harry had missed out on. She vowed to brush his hair more often.

Just as Harry was getting sleepy, Ginny put down the brush and used her fingers to stroke through his hair. It felt good but in a different way. Her fingers massaged and scratched his scalp as she combed his hair in different directions.

"I don't think it looks any better," she said doubtfully. She crawled off the bed and knelt on the floor between his legs, her arms propped up on his thighs.

"My turn." She handed him the brush.

Harry took the brush and mimicked her earlier movements. As he pulled he brush down through her hair, he was amazed at how silky and soft it was. It didn't look any different from his own until he touched it -- then it was all too obvious. Plus, his hair didn't smell like flowers.

"Are you sniffing my hair again?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

"Yeah," Harry said defensively. "So what?"

She laughed. "You're weird."

"Is it your soap or what?" He sniffed the hair again, and then lifted the mass away from her neck to sniff the bare skin of her shoulder.

"It's not just your hair," he said accusingly. "Your skin smells good too."

She laughed again. "I'm a girl. We're supposed to smell good."

"Bloody distracting…" he mumbled.

Harry continued to brush Ginny's hair for several minutes in silence until he heard a shocked voice from the doorway.

"Harry? What in the bloody hell are you doing?"

Ginny and Harry both twisted around to see Ron standing in the doorway and holding onto Harry's Firebolt.

Harry flushed but Ginny grinned and stood up, taking the brush from his hand. "Just catching up," she said smoothly.

"Was he...Harry, were you brushing her hair?"

"Yeah," Harry stood up and decided he would NOT be embarrassed. "She brushed mine. I was returning the favour."

Ron's gaze swung back and forth between them. "You guys are brushing each other's hair," he said slowly.

Harry shrugged. "Her hair is soft, and it smells good. It was nice."

"Are you a girl now?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Ginny said impatiently. "Mum used to brush your hair all the time when you were a kid. Harry'd never had his hair brushed before. I was just showing him what it was like."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her brother. She willed him to understand why he should not tease Harry about this. Ron must have gotten the hint because he just raised his eyebrows and held out Harry's Firebolt.

"Whatever. Let's go for a fly. Hermione is going to meet us down there."

"Hermione is going to fly?"

"Nah, she's going to sit under a tree and read a book," Ron said in a disgusted voice. "I'm not sure where we went wrong with that one."

Harry grinned and took the broom. "Coming, Gin?"

"Yeah." Ginny grabbed a hair band and fastened her hair back from her face before tugging her trainers on while Ron and Harry waited impatiently. "All right, let's go."

They joined Hermione in the kitchen and took off for the makeshift Quidditch pitch behind the Burrow. Ginny and Ron stopped by the broom shed and grabbed two old brooms. Hermione settled herself under a tree while Harry and Ginny took turns playing chaser against Ron's keeper.

They played three-on-three for a while, and then Harry and Ginny raced for the snitch. They reached it nearly at the same time, and then argued for a good ten minutes over whose hand had closed over it first before Ron finally intervened and declared a tie.

When they landed, Ginny eyed Harry's broom with a gleam in her eye. "Can I ride it?"

Harry looked down at his Firebolt. "Sure. Haven't you already though?"

"Not nearly enough."

Harry hopped off and handed her the broom. "Go on, then."

Ginny mounted the broom with reverence and took off like a shot. Hermione looked up from her book when she heard a loud "whoop" and watched as Ginny soared into the sky. Ginny levelled out above the trees and took her hands off the wood and gripped the broom with her thighs. She closed her eyes and let the wind blow back her hair.

Freedom.

She ignored the shouts of her brother below her to hold onto the damned broom and flew a few more minutes before plummeting to the ground. She came to a screeching halt in front of Ron and Harry.

"Harry," she said breathlessly, "teach me how to do a Wronski Feint."

Ron sputtered but Harry's eyes lit up. "Do you want in front or back?"

"Front of course."

He smirked at her and motioned for her to scoot up on the broom shaft before mounting behind her. He grabbed her hips and pulled her back between his thighs. He wrapped one arm around her waist and put his hand on top of hers on the broom so he could guide them.

"And now, Fury," he murmured into her ear. "I'll show you some real flying."

Ginny leaned back into him, her head tucked underneath his chin as he quickly accelerated them to a height above the trees. He levelled the broom and took his arm from her waist so he could grip the broom with both hands right above hers.

"Hold on tight," he warned. "You've got to use your hands and your thighs."

Ginny gripped the broom tighter and nodded to show she was ready.

"Scared?"

"No."

"I'm going to pull up at the last minute; just before it looks like we're going to hit the ground."

"I know, Harry," she said impatiently. "Just get the bloody hell on with it."

Harry dipped the broom downwards and plummeted to the ground at an alarmingly increasing rate. Ginny felt the force of the wind press her back against his chest so that there was no space between them. Even though they were hurling towards the ground at several miles an hour, she'd never felt safer.

Faster and faster they went. The closer they got to the ground, the more the wind screamed past her ears. Just as Harry had warned her, it looked like they were about to hit until he gave an almighty wrench on the broom to level it out just above the grass. They levelled out slowly, and Ginny knew that if Harry hadn't timed things just right, he wouldn't have been able to pull them out of the dive.

They flew almost lazily parallel to the ground as Harry slowed them down. Once Ginny had caught her breath she said, "Again."

Harry laughed and angled the head of the broom up to the sky. "All right, Fury. Again."

As early morning broke over Ottery St. Catchpole, four Weasley children, Harry and Hermione all trudged sleepily up the grass hill. They were following the disgustingly cheerful Mr. Weasley towards the Portkey that would take them to the World Quidditch Cup.

Harry, who was still suffering the effects of a very odd dream from the night before, had never heard of a Portkey, and so he was sort of blindly following the Weasley family -- not many of whom were more awake than he was.

Ginny, who had never been a morning person, was lagging behind with bleary eyes and a sort of stumbling gait. Harry looked back to find her rubbing her eyes and yawning so widely that she tripped over a rock in her path and nearly fell over.

Sighing, he handed his bag to Ron who wordlessly slung it over his shoulder with his own and walked back a few feet to Ginny.

"Give me your bag."

Ginny handed it over without question, too sleepy to realize what was happening. Harry took the satchel and slung it diagonally across his chest.

"Hop on," he said, turning his back to her.

"What?"

"It's called a piggyback ride," he said impatiently. The others were getting pretty far ahead by now. "You're too sleepy to walk, Fury. I'll carry you."

Ginny looked at him gratefully but said, "It's too far. You can't carry me all that way!"

"Please," he rolled his eyes. "You weigh what -- less than 80 pounds? C'mon, I don't want to get left behind."

"You're all right, Potter," Ginny sighed. She hopped up on his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. Harry caught her behind the knees and walked quickly to catch up with the others.

Ginny yawned in his ear and laid her head down on his shoulder while he walked. "M'sorry," she mumbled. "I'm not much of a morning person."

"No kidding."

Harry carried Ginny for a good twenty minutes. Although she wasn't exactly heavy, he was exhausted by the time they reached the Portkey.

The Portkey looked like a harmless old boot on top of a hill but when it activated, he felt an unpleasant tug behind his navel, and then they were swirling through a windy vortex. He struggled to maintain his grip on the boot and let go when Mr. Weasley shouted it was time to do so. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George all landed in an unceremonious tangle on the ground while Mr. Weasley and the other wizards they'd met at the Portkey floated genially down to the ground with the air of people who'd travelled many Portkeys.

Whatever Harry had expected to find at the Quidditch World Cup, the actuality far exceeded his expectations. Never before had he seen so many witches and wizards in one place. It was rather freeing -- not to have to hide what one was. He kept turning around in circles as they walked to the tent Mr. Weasley had reserved for them because he didn't want to miss anything.

They arrived at a small pup tent that on the outside didn't look like it would fit two people, let alone seven. When he entered he was amazed to find a large spacious area with a living room, kitchen and three bedrooms on one side. He and Ron stowed their bags in a room that had four bunk beds and immediately gained permission from Mr. Weasley to go walk around.

"Stay close together," he warned them. "I don't want you getting lost."

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny set out with Fred and George and were soon swept up by the Quidditch fever that had gripped the large wizarding camp. They spent all day trying to see everything. They had lunch from one of the various food tents, and Harry had to stop himself from buying several things at a market big enough to rival Diagon Alley.

Now thoroughly exhausted, the six friends trooped back to their tent to find Mr. Weasley stirring a pot of something on the stove. Harry blessed Mrs. Weasley's forethought as they dug into the rich chicken stew she'd sent along.

After dinner, Harry was surprised to see Fred pull out a deck of Muggle playing cards. He shuffled them expertly and raised an eyebrow at his sister.

"Fancy a game?"

She grinned evilly at him. "Are you sure?"

"I've been practicing," Fred said, pushing a chair away from the table with his foot. "Sit down."

"Oi," he said to George and Ron who were in a heated discussion about Quidditch, "let's play poker."

"You guys know how to play poker?" Harry asked in astonishment. "But it's a muggle game."

"Dad taught us years ago," George said, digging a sack of poker chips out of his bag. "We play a lot."

"We play because we're trying to beat Ginny," Ron scoffed, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "She's been kicking our arses since she was six."

"Ginny's the best," Fred admitted, not without a bit of pride. "Hermione are you in?"

"How is it that I didn't know this about you?" Harry asked Ginny when Hermione reluctantly joined them at the table.

She turned her nose up at him and took the cards Fred was sliding across the table. "You don't know everything about me, Potter."

Two hours later, Harry was forced to concede that if he had known the depth of Ginny's talent for poker playing, he would have thought twice before entering the game. He had learned to play poker on the sly by watching Dudley and his friends but had never actually played a hand until this evening. Fred was right -- Ginny was good.

Right now, Ginny's face was stoic as she and Hermione went head to head. Ginny kept raising the pot casually as if she was so indifferent to her hand that it didn't matter whether she won or lost. Hermione was flustered and had only a small handful of chips left.

"If Ginny raises again, Hermione'll have to fold or go all in," Fred commented to Ron under his breath.

Hermione bit her lip; she would be out of the game if Ginny had a better hand.

"Ginny won't do it," Harry said. "She's too nice."

Ginny turned her head to glare at him. "Harry Potter, you take that back."

"Take back what?"

She shuddered. "That crack about me being nice."

"You are nice," Harry teased her. "You're nice and sweet and girly."

Ginny raised the pot again, tossing in the exact amount of chips that Hermione had in her hand and put down her cards before reaching over to punch Harry in the arm. 

"Ow!" he rubbed his soon-to-be bruised arm. "That hurt!"

"You deserved it," she said glibly. "And just for that comment, I'm going after you next."

"I'm shaking in my shoes, Fury."

Ginny's eyes gleamed as she showed her cards, and Hermione moaned in defeat. It was the first amount of emotion Ginny had shown since they'd sat down.

"Believe me," she said to Harry, "you should be."

Harry's defeat was a well-thought out and executed plan of humiliation. He hadn't been playing too badly until Ginny set her sights on revenge. The defeat was a drawn out affair designed to make the humiliation last as long as possible. Ginny knew just the right moves, the right facial expressions to make and the right things to say to goad him into betting on hands he knew he couldn't win.

By the time she'd cleaned him out, she'd also sent Ron and George packing and had totally destroyed any thought of ever playing with her again.

"Oh, you'll be back," Ron said wisely. "It's like the ultimate challenge -- see if you can beat Ginny at poker. You won't be able to resist." 

"She's sort of smug about it, isn't she?" Harry said, watching the last two players in disgust.

"Shouldn't have said she was nice," Ron snickered. He thumped him on the back and followed George to bed.

Harry had no idea how long Fred's defeat lasted as he went to bed shortly after Ron. But the next morning, both Fred and Ginny were the last to get up and Fred was in a particularly grumpy mood.

"Eat up!" Mr. Weasley boomed. "Last time the World Cup lasted three days!"

They soon joined the throng of spectators eager to enter the massive stadium in the distance. It took nearly an hour to enter and find their seats. Harry watched everything with wide eyes, determined not to miss anything. Ginny said he looked like a tourist but he just shrugged and kept looking. He was fascinated with all the magic around them. What would it have been like to grow up in this world? Where magic was a part of everyday life?

Harry stood next to Ginny as the match began, and she climbed up onto his shoulders when Victor Krum, the Bulgarian seeker, entered the stadium. Krum was evidently an internationally-famous Quidditch star, but Harry had never heard of him.

Standing in the stadium, holding onto Ginny's knees so she wouldn't fall, Harry cheered with the rest of them—he cheered louder even because for the first time in his life, he realized the wizarding world went far beyond Hogwarts. Someday, he decided, he would leave his Aunt and Uncle's house and live like a wizard. He would never look back.

They had barely returned to the tent and sat down to dinner when the camp's frivolity was interrupted by shouts and screams from outside. Mr. Weasley jumped up and ran outside to see what was happening. When he returned his face was pale, and his wand was in his hand.

"Fred, George, take care of your sister," he barked. "All of you need to leave the tent and head for the forest. Wait for me at the edge and stay together."

They all stared at him in various stages of eating, not sure whether he was serious or not. "Now!" he said, raising his voice. "I've got to go help the others."

They followed him out of the tent, and he hurried out to join a group of older wizards who were nervously trying to direct an evacuation of the nearby tents.

Harry and the others joined the exodus of witches and wizards heading towards the forest. Harry tried to stay with the others, but the crowd jostled him and pressed forward until they broke through their small group. Hermione looked back at him desperately, her hand latched onto Ron's sleeve. She called his name, urging him to hurry up, but the crowd surged, and Hermione and Ron were swept further away. Harry could see them trying to reach Fred and George, but they too were pulled away. He felt a momentary sense of panic when he couldn't see Ginny but then he felt a small hand slip into his, and he looked down in relief to see Ginny standing beside him.

She tugged on his hand, and he stopped as the crowd swept past him; she was looking behind them, and he followed her gaze. A group of wizards dressed in black robes were in the distance. They were laughing and jeering at a muggle couple they were levitating and torturing in the air.

Harry felt a chill of cold fear run up his spine. The wizards were hooded as they moved through the camp, causing destruction to the surrounding tents. He couldn't see their faces but the air stank of dark magic.

"Who are they?" Harry asked. The muggle man screamed when one of them set his slippers on fire and then immediately put it out.

Ginny's face was grim. "Death Eaters. C'mon."

She pushed past him and, still holding tightly to his hand, led them towards the forest where, hopefully, they could catch up with Hermione and her brothers.

"Ginny," Harry panted, "how do you know they're Death Eaters? Have you seen one before?"

"No," she replied, pushing aside a low-draping limb, "but I've seen pictures and heard my parents speak about them. Did you notice their masks?"

"No, I couldn't see past their hoods."

"They had white masks," she said shortly. "Just like my dad said they used to wear."

"Harry!" 

Harry heard his name, and he and Ginny stopped walking to see Ron and Hermione hurrying towards them.

"Ginny, thank goodness," Ron said in relief. "We couldn't find you, and then Fred and George were gone-"

"I'm fine," she said quickly. "I was with Harry."

Ron looked down at their still-joined hands, and Ginny dropped Harry's hand quickly. There was no need to hold hands now. Harry smiled faintly at her, and when they fell in step behind Ron and Hermione to go back to the edge of the forest to wait for Mr. Weasley, he reached down and grabbed her hand again.

She squeezed it gratefully, and he tugged her closer, wrapping a brotherly arm around her shoulders as they walked.

Harry explained about what they had seen after the four of them had gotten separated, and Hermione looked over her shoulder anxiously.

"Are you sure, Ginny?"

"Pretty sure," Ginny said, "but I could be wrong. I _hope_ I'm wrong."

Hermione suddenly stopped short at the edge of the trees, causing Harry to run into her.

"No, I don't think you're wrong," she said, her voice faint as she looked up at the sky.

They all looked up then, and Harry saw a bright, sickly green skull shimmering in the air. A large serpent was winding its way through the open mouth of the skull. Just looking at it made his scar hurt. He rubbed his forehead, wincing. Ginny looked at him questioningly, but he just shook his head telling her silently to leave it alone.

"Blimey, what's that?" Ron asked.

"It's," Hermione cleared her throat. "It's _his _mark. The Dark Mark. Voldemort's."

Ron flinched.

"His Death Eaters used it as a symbol," she continued. "Usually as a sign they'd been there…and usually after they'd done something horrible. I read about it last year…"

"Well, shit," Ginny sighed abruptly. "This just keeps getting worse."


	8. Chapter 8 The First Task

Chapter 8

When Professor Dumbledore announced that Hogwarts would be hosting a Tri-Wizard Tournament, Harry didn't think much about it beyond the excitement of watching such an event. Even if he had been of age, he wouldn't have entered; he didn't have that much confidence in his abilities. He'd had enough "eternal glory and honour" to last him a lifetime.

This is why it was such a surprise when the Goblet of Fire, the chosen vessel for entering one's name in the tournament, spat out his name as one of two Hogwarts' champions.

The occupants of the Great Hall went silent with shock when Dumbledore read his name aloud almost bewilderingly. The entire school, including the students of Durmstrang and Beuxbatons, stared at Harry who suddenly felt he'd either shrunk to three-feet tall, or had grown a giant head.

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore read again. His head snapped up from the piece of parchment in his hand and his eyes focused on Harry at the back of the Great Hall.

"Go on, Harry," Hermione whispered. "Go on." She gave him a shove off the bench and he stumbled forward, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Ginny caught his arm to keep him from falling and their eyes met. She looked anxious and worried, but she gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand comfortingly before he walked forward towards Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall, her lips white with tension, ushered him past the Goblet and into a small room behind the staff table.

Harry took one last look back at the room and looked for his friends. Hermione gave him an encouraging smile, but the expression on Ron's face was unreadable. Ginny was standing slightly apart from them. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and her face was pale. She didn't smile or scowl or anything, she just looked at him. And for one brief moment, Harry could tell what was written on her face and on every inch of her rigid body.

Ginny was afraid. For him.

Somehow, it didn't make him feel better.

Harry trudged wearily back to his common room. He could barely comprehend that he was now expected to participate in the highly dangerous TriWizard Tournament — he, a fourteen-year-old wizard — let alone the implications of returning to his friends. All he wanted to do was to go to bed and forget this startling miserable day.

He sighed the password to the Fat Lady, who looked at him sympathetically before swinging open, and entered Gryffindor Tower.

Ginny and Ron were facing off against each other in the middle of the room, their faces red and angry while others watched in interest. Hermione was standing to one side, her face speculative. Fred and George were watching from one corner, but they looked ready to intervene should things get out of hand. Harry could see the tip of George's wand poking out of his sleeve.

"He didn't put his name in, Ron!" Ginny was shouting at her brother. "He wouldn't do that!"

"How do you know?!" Ron shouted back. "Did you ask him?!"

"I don't have to!" she shrieked. "I know him! And so do you! He's your best friend; you know he wouldn't do something like that!"

"Do I?" Ron retorted hotly.

"Well, I hope you do," Harry said mildly.

Ginny and Ron backed away from each other as Harry approached, his hands thrust casually in his pockets.

He looked at Ron. "Got something to say, mate?"

Ron opened his mouth, and then closed it again. 

"Ron!" Hermione said sharply, and he shot her a dirty look.

"I didn't do it," Harry said quietly. "I don't want to be a part of this tournament and never did. But someone else put my name in, and now I don't have a choice."

Hermione gasped. "They're going to make you compete!"

"They don't have a choice," Harry sighed. "It's a magical contract."

"Oh, Harry…" her voice trailed off.

"Who would put your name in?" Ron asked, his voice suspicious.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. Someone who's got it out for me, I guess."

Ron snorted. "Of course. How could I forget, someone is always after you, aren't they?"

"Bugger off, Ron," Ginny snapped. "If you-"

"It's okay." Harry reached out and grabbed Ginny's wrist to keep her from slugging her brother. "He doesn't believe me. It's fine."

"It's not fine," Hermione insisted. "Ron, you're supposed to be his friend."

Ron wouldn't meet his eyes. "A friend would have told his best mate what was going on," he said. "I'm going to bed."

He stormed off up the stairs, and Ginny tugged at Harry's grip, trying to loosen it so she could go after him.

"Let me hit him, just once," she said through gritted teeth.

"Let it go, Fury," Harry said wearily. "It won't help. He's made up his mind."

"Git," Ginny spat. She turned to him. "How could he think about you?"

Harry smiled at her and then at Hermione. "At least you two believe me."

"Of course," Hermione said earnestly. "What did Dumbledore say?"

Harry related what had happened; how Barty Crouch, the Ministry official officiating over the tournament, had decided Harry must compete, and how suspicious the other champions and professors had been of him.

Hermione eventually went to bed, and Harry and Ginny were left alone by the fire.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch cushions. "I wish I could talk to Sirius about all this."

"You should write him," she suggested. "And tell him about your scar hurting while you're at it."

Harry winced. He hadn't realized Ginny had been that observant. But she was right, his scar had been aching a lot recently.

He nudged her with his shoulder. "You all right?" He couldn't get the look of stark terror on her face after the Goblet had named him champion out of his head.

She was quiet, staring into the flames for a moment. "Something bad is going to happen," she said in a low voice. "I can feel it. There are too many coincidences — Death Eaters at the World Cup, your scar hurting, and now someone submits your name in a tournament that could get you killed. And-" she hesitated.

"What?" Harry prompted.

"My nightmares," she said slowly. "They're weird."

"Aren't they always?"

"Yeah, but there's something more to them. Something that wasn't there before. I can't quite put my finger on it yet."

Harry laced their fingers together, tightly. "I'm not going to die," he said firmly.

"You'd better not," she said, shifting to lay her head on his shoulder. "Cause I've just gotten used to you holding my hand."

The fight between Ron and Harry ran on way longer than Ginny thought it should or would. Her brother had a quick temper, but usually got over things after he'd settled down a bit. He seemed determined to believe the worst of Harry. Ginny knew there was no way Harry would have submitted his name to the Goblet of Fire, and she suspected Ron was a little jealous of Harry.

After an initial attempt at reconciliation, Harry left Ron alone. Things were awkward, especially for Ginny and Hermione who were used to hanging out with both boys at the same time. Hermione ran herself ragged going back and forth between the two of them, but since Ginny was irritated with Ron, she and Harry spent a lot of time alone.

This was fine with Ginny — she didn't have many friends in her own year anyway — but she sensed the fight was weighing on Harry's mind. He enjoyed spending time with her, she could tell that, but he missed Ron. She wished her brother wasn't such a stupid prat.

Ron had been so stubborn that Ginny was surprised when he arranged for Hermione to tell Harry to go see Hagrid who would take him to the dragons the Ministry had lined up for the first TriWizard tournament task. She had been about to tell Harry herself when Hermione joined them by the lake and recited a speech Ginny suspected Ron had made her memorize.

Harry had just looked in Hermione in confusion, and Ginny didn't blame him. Ron had concocted quite a story that would disguise his involvement. Ginny could see that Harry didn't realize Ron was behind this whole thing. She opened her mouth to just tell Harry about the dragons, but found she couldn't speak about it. She cursed Charlie silently for his secrecy spell. Apparently Hagrid was more trustworthy than her or Ron.

Harry returned to the common room that night pale and shaken. He pulled the invisibility cloak off his shoulders and sunk into the closest chair. Ginny, who had waited up for him, put aside the book she'd been reading and looked at him sympathetically.

"Found out, have you?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You knew? You knew there were dragons and you didn't tell me?"

Ginny shook her head. "I couldn't. Charlie put a secrecy spell on Ron and me. I wanted to tell you."

He put his head in his hands. "It doesn't matter anyway; I'm gonna get killed. I don't know the first thing about dragons."

Ginny stood up and walked over to squeeze down into his chair beside him. "There's got to be a way, Harry," she said, rubbing the spot between his shoulder blades. "We just have to find it."

"I can't go up against a dragon, Gin," he moaned. "He'll eat me alive."

"Well… maybe, but not if we start working on it. We'll find a way, I promise."

He peeked over at her between his fingers. "You're going to help me?"

"Of course," she said, slightly affronted. "What are friends for?"

He smiled at her then and took his hands away from his face. "Thanks, Fury."

"We'll start tomorrow," she said decisively. "We'll get Hermione to help too, if she can get away from Ron."

Ginny stood up and tugged Harry to his feet. "Meet me in the library after your last class. We'll work until dinner, at least." She pulled him over to the boy's staircase and shoved him towards the steps. "Go to bed, you look exhausted."

Harry walked up a few steps and then stopped. He turned back around and ran lightly down the steps until he reached her. Gripping the back of her head in his hand, he placed a hard kiss on her cheekbone.

"You're the best," he said sincerely.

"I know." She shoved him off and walked up her own staircase to bed.

Harry and Ginny met in the library at the end of the day the next day. Hermione was still in class, but they got a jump start on things by gathering all the books on dragons they could find. Ginny decided he should learn a few defensive spells too, and after a few hours of work they had a list of spells Harry needed to practice.

Over the next several weeks, Harry and Ginny practiced spells until Harry was slightly more confident he wouldn't die — not a lot more confident, but slightly more. He still needed a plan though and hadn't decided what to do once it was his turn to face the dragon. He knew how to protect himself but hadn't figured out how to get past the dragon and obtain whatever he assumed it would be guarding.

The answer came from the most unexpected source. The new Defence professor, Mad-Eye Moody, who Harry suspected had watched him tell Cedric Diggory about the dragons, dropped several large hints that gave Harry an idea so simple, so basic, that he was amazed he hadn't thought of it before.

"A Summoning charm?" Ginny wrinkled her nose at him as she considered his excited suggestion. "Do you think you can do it? You'll need a strong Summoning charm to pull that off. It's only a week away."

"Do you think I can't do it?" Harry asked. He was a little irritated at having his idea shot down.

She shook her head and placed her quill on the table. "I'm not saying that, Harry. Calm down."

He sighed; amazed that she knew him so well. He wasn't sure even Hermione or Ron would have been able to tell that he was slightly irritated just from the tone of his voice.

"I'm just saying you're going to have to practice a lot," she continued. "But I can't help you this evening, I'm sorry. I've got an exam tomorrow, and I'm revising with Colin."

Harry was taken aback. It hadn't occurred to him in some time that Ginny might have other friends. They had spent so much time together… although now that Harry thought about it, it was more likely that he'd been monopolizing her time. He felt guilty and, if he was honest, a little jealous. He'd gotten very used to her constant presence in a very short time period.

"Oh, don't look at me like that." Ginny rolled her eyes at him and went back to scribbling on her parchment. "You look like you just lost your best friend."

"Sorry. I just-" He laid a hand over hers to stop her quill. "I've been very selfish, haven't I?"

She looked at him searchingly. "No. What makes you say that?"

He looked down while he fiddled with her fingers. "I've completely monopolized your time since Ron and I — well, you must have other friends you want to hang out with. And you've spent so much time helping me with those damn spells when you probably had a million other-"

"Harry," she interrupted. "If I didn't want to spend time with you, I wouldn't."

He didn't look convinced and she put down her quill again in exasperation. "Look, it was fun, okay? I had fun. I enjoyed helping you, and I'll continue to help you, just not tonight. I'm sure Hermione will be happy to though."

But it wasn't just that, Harry reflected as he put his things away later in his room. It wasn't just that Ginny couldn't help him — it was that he enjoyed being around her. She was smart and sarcastic, and she made him laugh. Ron had virtually ignored him this last month but Ginny had made him forget that once in awhile. It bothered him that Ginny might not want to hang out with him as much as he wanted to hang out with her.

He rolled his eyes and groaned at himself. He was starting to sound like a girl.

Luckily, Hermione was all too happy to help Harry practice his Summoning charm. They worked for a solid three hours during which Hermione had him summon various objects around the room. He was glad she'd offered to help him, but privately he missed Ginny. Hermione was very encouraging, and Harry appreciated this. But he soon discovered that Ginny's method of sarcasm and taunting was a lot more effective. She challenged him -- gave him something to work for.

He didn't say this, of course — he didn't want to hurt Hermione's feelings. And he did learn the Summoning charm so he had little to complain about.

The morning of the first task was cold and overcast. Ginny felt it was an appropriate atmosphere for what was about to happen. She would die before she would admit it to anyone, but she was a giant bundle of nerves. She'd said goodbye to Harry and wished him luck after breakfast before he'd left to go down to the site; the look on his face hadn't given her any confidence that he was prepared for what was about to happen.

After seating herself in the stands with Fred and George, she did her best to distract herself by sparring with her brothers. They either made her laugh or made her angry — both of which were very helpful distractions.

Ginny was on the edge of her seat while each of the champions faced their dragons. It was spectacular to watch — even if it was a bit nerve-wracking. The other Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory, was almost casual about it and Ginny felt a pang of empathy for him — he deserved to have been the only Hogwarts champion. But because someone had it out for Harry, Cedric had to share his spotlight with a fourth year.

When Harry entered the large enclosed area they'd built for the task, he looked so small and nervous that Ginny gripped her hands on the wood in front of her. The Hungarian Horntail he'd chosen roared in anger, and the crowd gasped when Harry had to jump down from some rocks in order to avoid a column of fire.

He looked angry and determined when he regained his footing, and when he held out his wand and bellowed the Summoning charm, Hermione and Ginny looked at each other in satisfaction. A few minutes later, his Firebolt came zooming towards him, and the crowd cheered when Harry jumped on it and flew away, narrowly missing another attack from the dragon.

He flew and dodged the dragon until Ginny's heart was in her throat. Eventually, the dragon broke fre, and Harry was forced to lead it on a wild goose chase around the castle. It seemed to take forever before he returned, a little banged up, and swooped down to get the egg.

Ginny closed her eyes in relief. Then she opened them in irritation. Bloody Harry Potter — she hated being such a girl.

The party that night in the common room was of an epic proportion. Fred and George tossed Harry up on their shoulders, and Harry laughed freely, happy that everyone finally accepted him as part of the tournament. Even he knew that Cedric was the real Hogwarts champion, but it had still stung when people had called him a cheater.

Fred and George eventually set him down, and the crowd parted to allow Ginny through.

"Potter, you magnificent bastard," she drawled. "I can't believe you made it out alive."

Harry grinned and enveloped her in a hug that had none of the awkwardness or stiffness that had existed in their previous hugs.

"I couldn't have done it without you," he said directly into her ear.

"I know," she said, resting her chin on her shoulder.

"Were you scared?"

Ginny hesitated. "Is anyone listening?"

Harry fought back a smile and lifted his head to glance around. "I don't think so."

"Then yes, I was terrified," she whispered.

Harry hugged her tighter. It meant something that she'd confessed to him.

"Don't worry, Fury, I won't tell anyone."

"I'm not sure," she said, "but maybe going against a dragon IS scarier than Voldemort."

"Harry?"

Ginny twisted in his arms to see Ron standing behind her, a sheepish look on his face.

"Right. Guess I'll let you two lovebirds make up," she said, disentangling herself from Harry.

"Sod off." Harry grumped but she could see the relief in his eyes.

"Watching your best mate nearly get eaten by a dragon put a perspective on things for you?" she asked her brother, her hands going to her hips.

Ron looked guilty. "Something like that."

"'Bout time," she said shortly. "Next you're such a git I'm not going to let anyone stop me from hitting you." She gave Harry a pointed look and left the two of them alone.


	9. Chapter 9 The Yule Ball

Chapter 9

"Ginny, you've got to come to the Yule Ball with me," Harry said urgently. He'd finally managed to corner her in the library and was trying to convey his sense of desperation without raising his voice.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "Cho Chang turn you down, did she? Never mind, I know the answer to that. She's going with Cedric Diggory, I heard it from Gabrielle Monyahan today in Potions." She laid down her quill and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm the last resort aren't I? Can't find a date so turn to best friend, Ginny. She won't care if it's only because she's the last woman on earth."

Harry had the grace to look sheepish. "Um…well, yes, Cho DID turn me down but believe me, you're not a last resort. Several girls have um…made what I'm pretty sure are hints that I should ask them but I'm rubbish with girls and well…you're my friend. I'd have fun with you."

"So if you can't go with the Scottish goddess, might as well go with a good ole buddy? No thanks, I've had better offers from Neville's toad." She picked up her quill and began scratching it across the parchment.

"Please, Ginny," Harry begged. "I'll grovel, is that what you want? On my knees begging, I swear."

"Tempting but no," she said idly. "Try again."

Harry sat back in his chair, the wheels turning in his brain. What could he say to convince her? He had to have _something_ she wanted…

"And don't try offering me free rides on your Firebolt," she warned, still writing her essay. "I can ride that any time I want to, as you well know."

Harry huffed, remembering the many times she'd nicked his broom, and he'd run out to the pitch in a panic only to find her leisurely flying. They sat in silence for a few more moments, Harry's fingers tapping rhythmically on the library table as he wracked his brain.

"Aha!" He snapped his fingers and earned a disapproving glance from Madam Pince. "I've got it!"

Ginny put down her quill and folded her hands across her stomach. "Go on," she said, raising her eyebrows. "I'm listening."

Harry leaned forward on his elbows, a smug look on his face. "You're a third year, so if you don't go with me, you won't get to go at all," he drawled. "And I _know_ you want to go."

Ginny lifted her chin and regarded him shrewdly. "I don't have anything suitable to wear," she said finally. "You'll have to buy me dress robes. Tomorrow, at Hogsmeade."

"Done," Harry agreed instantly.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Potter." Ginny smiled at him and picked her quill back up to begin working on her essay.

Harry stood up, relief evident on his face. He leaned over and impulsively kissed the top of her head. "You're brilliant," he said fiercely. He grabbed his bag from the table and hurried out of the library before Madame Pince threw him out for public displays of affection.

Ginny didn't watch him go but she smiled softly to herself…even after he was gone.

"Ron, just come on," Harry said impatiently to his friend. He'd had to practically drag Ron and his pretty horrific dress robes out of Gryffindor Tower all the way down to the Great Hall. They were going to be late at this rate, and Ginny would have his head.

To his relief, Ron picked up the pace. They arrived in the Great Hall with ten minutes to spare. Harry searched the crowd for Ginny, but he had no idea what she was wearing. He spotted Cho Chang looking very pretty, but she was talking to Cedric Diggory. He forced himself to ignore the swooping motion in his stomach.

He turned around to ask Ron if he'd seen Ginny and was shocked to feel all the air in his lungs leave his chest when he realised the girl in question was standing right beside him.

Ginny looked… amazing. Harry couldn't help himself, and he let his eyes travel down her slim figure and back up to where the evidence that she was indeed a growing girl was very apparent. She was wearing tight-fitting gold dress robes embroidered with a darker golden thread. The robes were cut to expose her shoulders and then swooped down to show a little cleavage. Her hair was pinned up on her head, and Harry found himself drawn to her neck; he'd never realised before how graceful it was.

"See something you like, Potter?" Ginny was grinning mischievously at him. Her eyes were sparkling as she rested one hand on a silk-covered hip.

Harry opened his mouth to say "YES" but he found that all speech had left him. For some reason, Ginny found this highly amusing. He flushed when she laughed at him.

"Water," he finally managed to croak. "I need water."

She laughed again and stepped closer to him, reaching up to kiss his cheek lightly. "I'm glad you approve," she said gaily, moving back. "Your galleons well spent then?"

Harry could only nod, and he slipped an arm around her tiny waist to pull her back. She looked startled, but relaxed against him, one hand splayed against his chest. Harry really had no idea what he was doing, but he couldn't stop himself from bending his head to press a nose against her neck and inhale deeply. She smelled amazing.

"Is that my galleons too then?" he murmured into her skin.

"Ah no," Ginny sounded breathless. "That's just me."

Harry lifted his head and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. "Thank you for coming with me," he said. He pulled back to see a blush travel up to her cheeks. "Why, Ginny Weasley, are you blushing?"

She thumped his chest with a closed fist, and he let her go to rub the spot with the palm of his hand. "You haven't blushed for me since your first year," he said, grinning at her. "It's kind of nice."

She threatened him again with her fist, but Ron reappeared then with his date, Padma Patil in tow. "Easy there, slugger," he said, grabbing her by the wrist. "You don't want to ruin Harry's hair. He spent hours getting it just so."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at her brother. "He spent hours getting it messy?"

Ron grinned. "Well, it's artfully messy wouldn't you say?"

Ginny's eyes travelled, up and down Ron's outfit. "Er…nice dress robes, Ron. You look very… original."

Ron scowled at her while Harry had to hold back a smirk. Ron probably would have said something nasty, but Hermione showed up by then; she looked so fabulous that Ron was too busy staring at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall hurried over and clutched his arm. "The champions are all lining up by the door. You and Miss Weasley, oh don't you look lovely dear, need to come this way."

"Why?" Harry asked blankly.

"Oh, didn't I mention?" McGonagall said distractedly. "The Tri-Wizard Champions are expected to open the ball. They must lead off the dancing."

"What?" Harry blanched. He wasn't the best of dancers, and now the whole school would be watching them? He turned to Ginny and saw by the stricken look on her face that she wasn't too happy with the idea either.

"Harry," she said under her breath as McGonagall led them over to where the rest of the champions were standing. "I am going to kill you. You realise the whole school will be watching us dance?"

"I know," he said nervously. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'm a horrible dancer."

"Well I'm not the best either," she snapped. "And you're going to have to lead so make it look convincing. Do you know the steps?"

Harry nodded but he wasn't confident that he knew ALL of the steps. His stomach gave another unpleasant swooping motion as the doors to the Great Hall opened and they followed the procession into the Hall. The Great Hall looked nothing short of spectacular. When Harry reached the dance floor, he turned to place his arm around Ginny's waist and, he was struck at how fiery and golden she looked surrounded by all the silver and ice.

He must have looked really nervous because Ginny's eyes softened, and she took pity on him. "Hey," she said softly. She reached up and tugged on his chin gently, forcing him to look at her. "We'll be fine, yeah? No one's even going to notice if we mess up a bit."

He nodded but didn't feel much better until she hissed softly to him in parseltongue: "We'll do it together."

Confidence washed over him. She was right. They'd been through worse before; they could handle one silly dance at this ridiculous ball. "Yeah," he hissed back. "What's this compared to Tom Riddle?"

She smiled at him before placing one hand on his shoulder and one in his outstretched palm. Harry was struck with how small her hand seemed in his but he barely had time to consider this further because the music began, and they had to move. He fumbled the first few steps, but then his eyes met Ginny's and something innate seemed to take over. Soon, he was twirling her around the dance floor, and she was smiling widely. Other dancers joined them but he scarcely noticed. He was lost in Ginny and the way she felt in his arms.

Harry had never denied to himself that he was mildly attracted to Ginny. Even though he had a serious crush on Cho, he recognised that there was something about Ginny that drew him. She was tough, and if he ever tried to make a move on her she'd probably lay him out; but for some reason this only attracted him more. He never had to work at being Harry around her; she made things so easy for him. It was only because of their friendship and shared history that he'd never pressed her for something more. Sure they flirted and exchanged a few friendly hugs and kisses on the cheek, but it had always been part of the package. They were more themselves around each other than they could be with anyone else.

But tonight, Harry wondered -- not for the first time -- if he shouldn't make a move towards something more. It wasn't just her dress or her hair or the way she…sparkled. It was the way she made him feel. The way she calmed him and inspired him at the same time. The way that he only had to look in her eyes to feel confident. The way she believed in him…

The music slowed to a stop ,and Harry let go of Ginny's hand to slide his other arm around her waist. He pulled her closer and rested his forehead against hers. "Another dance?" he asked hopefully.

Ginny's arms came up slowly to wrap around his neck in reply. "All right," she sighed. "If you insist."

"Oh, I insist," Harry said. "I don't want my galleons to go to waste. That dress deserves to be seen."

"You make it sound like I'm some sort of paid escort," Ginny complained.

"Sorry," Harry said instantly. "Even though I had to beg and bribe you to come with me, you are definitely not just an escort."

"Glad to hear it," she grumped. But she pressed tighter to him and rested her head on his shoulder with a small sigh.

Harry felt something very dangerous and very scary awake inside of him. It lifted its head, sniffed the air and stretched as if it'd been asleep a long time. And when Ginny moved her hips against him, it roared to life. Harry felt his heartbeat leap, and his palms instantly became sweaty. Yeah, he was a goner.

They danced several more dances together. Ginny even convinced him to dance some of the fast dances, and he laughed freely at some of the moves she showed him. Eventually, one of the twins came to claim Ginny and Harry left her in the arms of her brother who'd decided she was much too short for him, and they danced with Ginny's feet several inches off the ground.

Harry noticed Ron sulking at one of the tables, his eyes following Hermione around the dance floor while Padma sat next to him, an equally sulky look on her face. He decided to avoid that can of worms and headed for the drinks table instead.

After Fred was done with Ginny, he passed her off onto George who eventually brought her back to Harry for another slow dance. "Don't let this one out of your sight, Harry," he advised. "Several blokes tried to cut in but I managed to scare them off."

"Oh," Ginny exclaimed, and threw her arms around Harry's neck, "no one would dare approach me with over-protective Potter around."

Harry laughed, acknowledging that perhaps he did have a bit of over-protectiveness streak in him when it came to Ginny. Funny though, he'd never bothered to examine it much until this evening. He wrapped his arms around her waist again and tugged her to him.

"Dance with me," he murmured in her ear.

"Always, Harry," Ginny breathed. "I'll always dance with you."

He pulled back to see her eyes suspiciously bright. "Have you been in the Firewhisky?" 

"Never touch the stuff," Ginny proclaimed. "Although what Fred and George put in that red punch over there, I cannot say. I had two glasses but George wouldn't let me have anymore."

She giggled at him, and he rolled his eyes. "You're a bit tipsy," he accused.

She shrugged. "Maybe. Give me a few minutes, and I'll settle down."

She did seem to settle down after two more dances, and they were sitting with Ron at his table when a dark-haired Ravenclaw with blue eyes came over and leaned down to speak to Ginny.

"Hi, my name is Michael Corner, and I don't believe we've met." He spoke in a low voice that Harry instantly mistrusted. "I wonder if I might have this dance."

Ginny glanced at him admiringly, and then looked uncertainly towards Harry. "Harry-" she began.

"Oh, right," he said, startled. "No, of course, Ginny, go ahead. We're just here as friends after all. You can dance with whomever you like." He said the words, but he didn't really mean them.

An odd expression came over Ginny's face, and she nodded sharply before turning back to Michael Corner and placing her hand in his outstretched one. The Ravenclaw led her to the dance floor and spun her around expertly before settling a hand at her waist and twining her fingers with his. Harry had to admit Corner seemed to be a much better dancer, but he heartily disapproved of how close he and Ginny were standing.

Harry watched Ginny and Michael Corner dance the next five dances with a growing sense of doom. He knew he'd said she could dance with whomever she chose but she was _his_ date after all. He expected a little more attention than this. Soon he had joined Ron in sulking at the table, his eyes following Ginny around the dance floor as she laughed and chatted animatedly with the Corner bloke. He thought about getting up to cut in, but he reminded himself that Ginny had wanted to dance with Corner. She seemed perfectly content and was successfully ignoring the death glares her older brothers were sending Corner's way.

At midnight, Harry decided he'd had enough. He stood up and looked for Ginny to tell her goodbye, but when he saw her dancing very close to Corner, both arms wrapped around his neck and staring into his eyes, a chill came over his heart. Fine. Let her dance the night away with a perfect stranger. He stomped out of the Great Hall and right into an altercation between Ron and Hermione who sent them both on their way, tears in her eyes.

He sighed and kicked a nearby wall in frustration. What a horrible night.

Harry successfully avoided Ginny for most of the next day. He was furious with her, especially when he overheard Pavarti and Lavender giggling about "that dishy fellow" who had kissed Ginny underneath the mistletoe at the Yule Ball. He couldn't say exactly why he was so angry with her, except that he thought it was pretty crummy of her to go off with another bloke when she'd been Harry's date.

Ginny managed to track Harry down in the common room just before dinner. He'd been avoiding her all day, even though he thought he was being clever about it, and she was determined to find out why.

"Harry," she said firmly. "We need to talk."

He looked up at her with angry green eyes, and she was surprised at the intensity in them. "Why?"

"Because you're avoiding me," she spluttered. "And I'd like to know why."

Harry shrugged. "Why do you care anyway? Go hang out with Corner. He'll probably pay you loads of attention."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "I care because you're my friend. If you're upset with me, I'd like to know why."

Harry scoffed. "You didn't care much last night."

Ginny felt her fists clench. "What ARE you talking about?"

"I heard about your little snogging show with Michael Corner," Harry said viciously. He threw aside his textbook and stood up. "Why'd you do it? Just tell me that."

"I don't owe you any explanations about anything," Ginny said sharply. "Michael asked me to dance, you said you didn't care. We danced, he kissed me. He's a nice bloke, and we're going to Hogsmeade in a few weeks. I would think you'd be happy for me."

"So you think it's perfectly all right to just pick up guys when we're on a date together?" Harry's eyes were flashing dangerously.

"Oh!" Ginny gasped. "We were NOT on a date together. You made it perfectly clear that you preferred Cho Bloody Chang over me. The only reason you even asked me was because she turned you down. You said we were there as friends!"

The thing was, Harry thought angrily, that she was right. They _had_ been there as friends, and she had every right to dance with other blokes. He didn't own her. But the jealousy inside of him burned and demanded to be released. It was equally upsetting that, despite his conviction that something important had happened between them while they were dancing, she obviously hadn't felt it.

"That's not the point, Ginny!" he exploded at her. "The point is that you can't go around just picking up strange blokes! Do you even know this Corner git? You know what happened the last time you trusted someone you didn't know!"

Hermione, who was sitting nearby, gasped; her eyes went wide with even further shock when Ginny hauled back her fist and punched Harry in the jaw. Harry's head snapped back, and he reacted instantly, his hand coming up to hit her back. He caught her across the mouth, and she stumbled back, catching herself on a nearby table.

Ginny ignored the stares and gasps around her and pushed herself upright. Harry's mouth was open, a large red mark already forming on his jaw. He was staring at her in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done. Ginny touched her lip gently and wasn't surprised to find a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. She instantly decided she wouldn't be mad that he'd hit her back. She never wanted to be the type of girl who could dish it out but not take it. The fact that Harry had hit her only meant they were equal in some sense.

What she _was_ angry about was the fact that he was upset with her for going out with Michael Corner. Harry was the one, after all, who'd made it clear they were only friends, and he'd had every chance to say that he didn't want her to dance with Michael Corner. She would have turned Michael down gladly if it meant Harry would rather be with her. But he'd sent her away, and so she'd danced with Michael and found him to be a charming, intelligent person. And when he kissed her, well, who was she to deny her first kiss? At a ball no less?

"Ginny," Harry croaked. "I'm so-"

"Save it, Potter," Ginny said in a low voice. "I hit you first, it's fair. What isn't fair is this conversation. I will date who I want, when I want, and it is none of your damn business." She stepped forward and punched him again in the stomach. He doubled over, wheezing.

"That was for that last comment. How _dare_ you?"

She turned around and walked slowly to the stairs, ignoring the stares of their housemates. When she reached the steps, she broke into a run and streaked up them without looking back.

Harry stared after her bleakly, wondering how he was ever going to fix this.


	10. Chapter 10 Reunited for the Second Task

Author's Notes:

I know many of you were a little taken aback at the last chapter and I have to admit that I was a little surprised. I thought I had made it clear that Harry's hitting Ginny was simply a gut reaction -- it wasn't a punch in the face (like when she hit him), it was simply his hand flying up and catching her on the mouth. I think that is a normal reaction for when someone hits you! And I certainly thought he deserved to be hit after what he said to her about Tom Riddle. But many of you disagreed and I certainly respect your opinions about that. In fact, I appreciate the readers who felt strongly enough to comment -- even if it was just to say that you didn't like it. I hope this chapter makes it all better -- I haven't changed anything from it's original version; this was always the way I had intended their fight to end. I didn't want to drag things out. I should also say that this is not the last time Harry and Ginny will argue with each other in this fic -- although this was a very extreme argument and it won't be so violent next time. The point is that they fight but they always find their way back to each other. They're experiencing new feelings and angst and trying to reconcile what Fate has thrown at them -- so they're going to lash out sometimes. So even though they may have a fight, I promise (with one exception WAY down the line), I will always get them back together very soon. You can rest assured that (again, with one exception about 20 chapters from now), if they disagree, it won't interfere with their friendship.

Thanks for reading, I hope those of you who swore you wouldn't continue reading this fic will change your mind after this chapter. Happy reading!

Chapter 10

As it turned out, Ginny didn't give Harry much of a chance to apologise. They avoided each other, and Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Ginny spent more and more time with Michael Corner. She seemed happy, and he supposed he should be happy for her. If anyone deserved a little joy in their lives, it was Ginny. But he couldn't ignore the ache in his chest every time he watched them walk off together. Eventually he decided that he would settle for just being her friend again. Whatever he felt for her, they'd been friends first, and he'd ruined it.

His nightmares were increasing, and the pain in his scar was getting worse. There was a sense of something in the air, and Harry felt nothing but dread about the next task of the tournament. Hermione and Ron were helping him but it wasn't the same as when Ginny helped him. Even working together, Ron and Hermione were less of a challenge than Ginny. 

Ron had been livid when he found out that Harry had hit his sister – even if it had been an accident. He'd been on the verge of hitting Harry himself, who couldn't help but feel that he thoroughly deserved it. He swore to Ron that he hadn't meant to do it – that his hand had just flown up before he could stop it. Before Ron could make good on his threat, Ginny had appeared in the common room, a crimson-haired saviour, and dragged Ron off to the corner where they'd had a furiously whispered conversation. Harry didn't know what she'd said to him, but Ron had backed down. He'd been heartened that even though Ginny was angry with him, she'd still come to his defence.

One night, Harry found himself completely unable to sleep. He hated this blasted tournament and everything it stood for. What's more, he was, quite frankly, scared to death. And he missed Ginny. Hermione had sat him down a few days ago and told him in no uncertain terms that it was up to him to apologise to her, and that he should stop being such a prat. He'd been trying to corner Ginny ever since but could never get her alone.

It was almost three a.m. when Harry decided that he wasn't going to get much sleep. He threw back his covers and headed for the common room. He wasn't surprised to find Ginny already there. He'd noticed the past few days that she'd appeared later and later at the breakfast table with dark circles under her eyes and a dark temper to match. His nightmares had been getting worse too; he should have suspected that whatever was in the air was affecting her as well.

"Ginny?" he said tentatively. She sat up and looked at him, an unreadable expression on her face. He knew that look. She was waiting.

He took a deep breath and plunged in. "I've wanted to talk to you for days," he said, walking over to sit next to her. "Please, Ginny, I'm so sorry. I'm a git, a prat, and a bloody bastard. I never should have said that, never should have HIT you, never should have made such a big deal about that Corner git-"

"Shh." Ginny cut him off with a hand pressed firmly to his mouth. He fell silent and she withdrew her hand. She studied his face, her eyes searching his, and he knew she was looking for his complete regret. He willed her to see it.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" she asked quietly. "It's been weeks."

"I told you," he said patiently. "I'm a complete git." He looked down at lap. "The truth is, I felt guilty. I treated you like shite, I HIT you for crying out loud, and to top it all off, I threw Tom Riddle back in your face." He looked back up at her. "I'm a horrible friend. You were right; I have no right to tell you who to dance with or to date. We were at the ball just as friends. I should have been more understanding."

"Why did you get your knickers in a twist about that?" Ginny asked curiously.

"No idea," he lied. "I reckon it was that over-protectiveness part coming out."

"Harry," Ginny turned to face him cross-legged on the couch. "I want you to know that I wasn't angry that you hit me back. A person gets punched, they react. It's understandable. And the fact that I'm a girl shouldn't make any difference."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but she stopped him.

"If I was a bloke, you wouldn't have thought twice about hitting me back."

He nodded reluctantly.

"But I was very angry with you for bringing Tom Riddle into it," she told him sternly. "Michael is not Tom and you should trust me more than that. I'm not that silly little girl anymore — you of all people know that."

"I know," he said hoarsely. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." She reached forward and grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together. "What hurt me more than anything was the idea that you didn't trust me to make my own decisions. And you know how careful I am. Just because I kiss a bloke, doesn't mean that I'm going to let him have my soul."

Harry swallowed and nodded weakly. "So you forgive me? Just like that?"

"Just like that," she said. "I would have forgiven you ages ago if you'd apologised, you prat."

"Hermione had to slap some sense into me," he said.

"I think you would have figured it out eventually," she said knowingly. She raised an eyebrow at him. "I've noticed you watching me lately."

"Yeah," he said sheepishly. "I was trying to figure out how to approach you."

She smiled at him, and he noticed again the dark circles under her eyes. "Hey, have you been sleeping okay?"

Ginny shook her head ruefully. "No. I don't know what's going on. I have these weird dreams, and then I wake up and can't remember them."

"Me too," Harry said slowly. "I feel like something is about to happen." His thumb stroked the back of her hand absentmindedly.

"Are you nervous?" she asked. "About the next task?"

"Yes," he said honestly. "And I know I said we wouldn't be but I'm a bit scared. I can't figure out what that blasted egg is trying to say."

"Sometimes it's okay to be scared," she said softly. "As long as it doesn't stop you from acting."

Harry shifted on the couch and let go of her hand to put an arm around her shoulders. Normally, he wouldn't have thought twice about such a thing, but since they'd fought so thoroughly, he wasn't sure where the boundaries lay anymore. Luckily, she seemed to welcome the embrace; she curled her legs underneath her and snuggled into his chest underneath his arm.

He sighed happily and sent a prayer of thanks to whoever was in charge of allowing her to forgive him. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For forgiving me."

She thumped his chest lightly. "You don't have to thank me," she admonished. "Just next time, don't go so long without apologising. I really missed you."

"I was miserable without you," he confessed. "Ron and Hermione have been trying to help me but they aren't you."

"Of course not," she said cheekily. "But who could be as good as me?"

Harry rested his head on her head and rubbed his cheek against the softness of her hair. "Git," he said fondly.

"Prat," she shot back.

He yawned, and she lifted her head from his chest. "Do you want to go back to bed?"

"No," he said, resting his head against the back of the couch and closing his eyes. "I just want to hold you for awhile. Is that okay?"

Ginny smiled softly and put her head back. "Yeah," she said quietly. "It's okay."

"I heard what happened at lunch today," Ginny smirked at him and tossed a tripping jinx at him.

The jinx hit him, and Harry fell on his bum. "Ouch," he said, shifting to his hands and knees and standing back up after Ginny had lifted the spell. "That hurt."

"Baby."

Harry glared at her and summoned a pillow to smack her in the face. She laughed and banished the pillow away.

"Heard about what?" Harry let his wand drop to his side.

"About your smoothness with Cho Chang," she said, her eyes twinkling. "You're sure to gain her attention spitting up pumpkin juice on yourself."

"Shut it, Fury," he said good-naturedly. "At least I didn't stick my elbow in a butter dish and squeak like a mouse in front of her."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him and sent her best jinx towards him — her bat bogey hex. He cursed and dropped his wand, and she quickly lifted the jinx.

He wiped his face his sleeve and glared at her. "That was uncalled for."

"Sorry," she said, feeling not the least bit guilty. "You know that topic is off-limits."

In retaliation, Harry threw a tickling charm at her and kept it on for a good five minutes before releasing her.

"Spoilsport," she panted, trying to get back her breath.

Harry and Ginny were in the same abandoned classroom they'd used before Harry's first task in the TriWizard Tournament. Harry had decided it was a good idea to keep practicing spells he might need for the rest of the year. He looked forward to these times with Ginny. They usually spent a few hours a week practicing magic. He found himself wanting to spend more and more time with her. Since their fight after the Yule Ball, they'd grown closer than ever.

The next task was only a few weeks away, but Harry was no closer to figuring out what message his golden egg contained. He, Hermione and Ron had tried everything but all they heard was a high-pitched shrieking that hurt their ears.

The next day, as Harry was walking to Transfiguration, Cedric Diggory stopped him in the hallway.

"I just wanted to thank you for helping me out with the first task," he said earnestly.

"Oh, you're welcome," Harry stammered. "No problem."

"Have you figured out your egg, yet?

Harry shook his head. Cedric looked up and down the hallway as if to ensure they were alone and leaned closer.

"Try taking it for a bath."

"A bath?" Harry looked at him blankly.

"Yeah," Cedric smiled. "Look, you can use the prefect's bathroom on the third floor. The password is 'pine fresh.'"

He backed away and tightened his grip on the bag over his shoulder. "Trust me." He gave Harry a boyish smile that Harry suspected he could hardly blame Cho Chang for falling for.

It took Harry a few days to get time alone to try out Cedric's suggestion and when he did, he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. From what he could deduce, something important to him was going to be taken to the bottom of the Black Lake by the mermaids, and he would have to rescue it within an hour. But how? And what would be taken?

After he informed Ginny, Ron and Hermione of the egg's message, there was a mad dash to figure out how to keep Harry underwater for an hour. They spent the last few hours, right up until the task, poring over texts in the library. Even after Professor McGonagall asked to see Ron and Hermione, he and Ginny delayed the inevitable.

In the end, it was Dobby the house elf who saved him. Upon learning that his idol, Harry Potter, needed to breathe underwater, he popped out and popped back in a few minutes later with looked like a handful of seaweed.

Harry swallowed the ill-tasting stuff Dobby called Gillyweed right before the task began. Once in the water, when he began growing gills and his hands and feet became webbed, he decided Dobby was getting an extra pair of socks if he survived the hour.

Ginny waited anxiously for Harry to surface from the Black Lake. She hated this, but she absolutely refused to bite her nails. Michael was next to her, talking enthusiastically with his mates; Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be seen. She assumed they were both in the lake waiting for Harry and Viktor Krum, respectively, to rescue them.

The crowd roared when Cedric Diggory surfaced with Cho Chang. Ginny bit her lip in disappointment. What was taking Harry so long?

Krum surfaced next with a wet and bedraggled Hermione in tow. Ginny grinned. She was glad her friend had someone who liked her so much.

Several more minutes went by before Ron and the sister of the Beauxbatons champion emerged from the water. Ginny saw Ron looking around, presumably looking for Harry, but he was nowhere to be found. The gong sounded, and Harry's supporters groaned in disappointment. Just as the ring from the bell ended, Harry burst out of the water, gasping for breath. Ginny stood up from her seat and watched as Ron and Hermione helped him out of the water.

She had to wait until the scores were announced and everyone else was walking back to the castle before she could go down to him. She sent Michael on and waited for Harry to finish talking to Dumbledore at the edge of the shore. From the looks of things, they were having a serious conversation. She watched as Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder and said something she could see greatly disturbed Harry. Dumbledore then patted him on the back and left.

Harry took a deep breath and turned to her. He smiled, but she could see the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Harry, you git," she said as he approached. "Always have to be the noble hero, don't you — you could have been first back!"

He shrugged sheepishly. "I didn't know," he said. "Guess it was pretty silly of me."

She laughed at him and shook her head. "It was a noble thing to do. And Fleur Delacour certainly seemed very grateful."

Harry blushed. "Did you see Ron's face when she kissed him?" He took her elbow and turned her back towards the castle. They fell into step beside each other, and he slid his arm around her shoulders.

"What were you talking to Dumbledore about just now?"

Harry stopped walking; indecision was written on his face. She looked back at him and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Well?"

"I…um…well, I asked him why they hadn't chosen you for me to rescue."

Ginny blinked several times. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the egg — it implied that I would have to rescue the most important thing-" his voice trailed off; he hoped she would get his meaning without him having to say it.

"Are you saying that I am more important to you than Ron?" she asked slowly.

Harry looked down at his feet and scuffed the grass with his shoe. "Well, this year, you've just-" he looked at her helplessly. "Dammit, Fury, you know what I'm trying to say."

Ginny hid her smile then and asked innocently, "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."

Harry groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "You bloody well do, but…oh hell," he took her by the shoulders and said firmly, "You've really been there for me this year, Gin. You're my best friend and you know it. That's why I asked Dumbledore about you. Ron's my best mate too, but it's not the same as it is between you and me."

"I assume you're referring to our common bond via Voldemort," she said dryly.

He nodded. "It's amazing how something good can come out of something so evil."

"Harry, I'm touched," she said sincerely. "You're really important to me too."

His face softened then, and he touched her cheek gently with the tips of his fingers. "I'm glad it wasn't you though," he said after a moment. "Not after why Dumbledore told me they didn't take you."

"Why?"

He hesitated and dropped his hand back down to her shoulder. "It doesn't really matter I suppose, but he said that they didn't want to risk putting you in the water because of the dangerous creatures in there."

"So?" Ginny was outraged. "Didn't he think I could take care of myself?"

He shook his head. "It's not that, Gin. Dumbledore said he suspects that everything evil might be after you — because of your connection to Voldemort."

Ginny was taken aback. "Everything evil? Dark creatures you mean? But that doesn't make sense — you have a connection too!"

He frowned. "They didn't have much of a choice with me," he pointed out. "I have to compete. But Dumbledore said they didn't want to risk placing you in a situation where a dark creature could sense Voldemort and get past the merpeople for you."

"This is crazy," Ginny scoffed. "Nothing evil is after me."

"No, not when you're in the castle where it's protected," Harry said. "Dumbledore said he wasn't sure, but he didn't want to find out the hard way." He looked at her anxiously. "He may be wrong, Gin, but he certainly believed it. I've never seen him look so serious."

Ginny took a heavy breath. "Well, that's something to think about it, isn't it?"

She stepped closer to him then. She suddenly needed comfort, and so she rested her forehead on his chest as she stared back out at the Black Lake. They were silent for a few moments while Harry rubbed her back comfortingly. Ginny stared at the water as if she expected something evil to break the surface at any moment and come for them.

"Is this ever going to be over, you think?" she finally asked in a small voice.

Harry rested his cheek on the back of her head. "Someday, Fury, I hope someday."


	11. Chapter 11 Tom Riddle's Painful Return

Chapter 11

Harry followed the rest of the Tri-Wizard Champions down to the Quidditch Pitch. He couldn't shake the feeling of apprehensive doom after Ron and Hermione had sent him off with a few final words of encouragement. Even though he was heartened by his friends' faith in him, he wasn't sure he quite deserved it. The only good part in all this was that it would soon be over. He'd wanted to say goodbye to Ginny, but Hermione said she was with Michael. Harry had managed to keep himself from scowling. He was grateful he and Ginny were friends again, but being friends meant he had to be civil to Michael bloody Corner.

"Harry!"

He turned at the sound of his name and heard the pounding footsteps before a small red blur launched itself. He caught Ginny to him as she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He was so bloody_ happy_ to see her, so relieved she'd come to wish him luck that he did the first thing that popped into his head. His lifted his head, palmed the back of her head with his hand and pressed his lips to hers.

He pulled away almost instantly, as did she, and they stared at each other wide-eyed before a tentative smile cracked her lips, and she said, "Well, it's nice to see you too, Potter."

He smiled sheepishly and set her down. "Sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I got carried away. It was sort of a…er…moment."

"I…um," she cleared her throat, "I just came to wish you luck. So… good luck then." She pulled him into another hug, and Harry hugged her back, grateful she wasn't making a bigger deal out of the brief kiss. He really hadn't meant to do it. It had just been instinct — he'd been caught up in the dramatic moment.

He studiously ignored the taste of her that lingered on his lips.

"I'm worried," she whispered. "Please be careful."

"Hey," Harry pulled back and looked down at her. "It can't be any worse than Voldemort right? Nothing more to be scared of then that."

"Right," she smiled bracingly. "Just… don't do anything stupid."

"Is that even possible?" he asked cheekily.

She nudged him and stepped back to shove her hands in her jacket pockets. "I'll be watching, okay?"

Harry nodded. "I'll see you after it's over then. Save me a Butterbeer."

Ginny smiled and walked back down the corridor. He watched her go for a minute and then shook himself visibly. He had to get over whatever this thing was. Yes, he was attracted to her. Yes, they were close. Yes, they were best friends. It was that third thing that was more important than anything. Besides, he'd caught Cho looking at him the other day. She still made his stomach feel funny. Although he seriously doubted Cho would through Cedric over for him, a guy could always dream.

Ginny wasn't the sort of girl to fret, but she had to visibly restrain herself from doing so when Harry disappeared into the maze. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was looming.

The spectators waited in the stands for what seemed like hours. There were a few flashes of spell lights from within the maze and one set of red sparks that caused some excitement, but mostly they just waited. It was nerve wracking. Ron and Hermione were on edge as well, and Ginny caught Hermione giving Ron several worried looks as if she expected him to do something about the situation. To his credit, her brother only responded with encouraging smiles that seemed to calm Hermione down.

Ginny passed the time playing Exploding Snap and talking to Michael. After Michael had moved off to talk to some of his housemates, Ginny and Hermione sat together.

It was when Hermione was telling a funny story about her parents in Diagon Alley that Ginny felt it.

_Pain_.

Knee-bending, mind-wracking pain. It was as if something that had been dormant inside of her was suddenly awakened and was stretching — threatening to take over her mind, insisting that it share what little space she had inside her body. She felt like her brain was exploding as it struggled to contain the knowledge that was suddenly pouring into it. Her body shook with the effort to contain the energy inside of her. She felt a connection to something that felt foreign, and she knew -- she _knew _--it was Tom. There was a snake inside of her hissing in triumph, and she had a sudden vision of Harry chained to a tombstone, twisting in anger and agony.

"Hermione," she whispered, falling to her knees on the wooden steps. She felt her eyes roll back in her head. Her hand clutched at her friend's arm. "Hermione. It's him. He's back. I can feel it."

Hermione squatted next to her. "What is it, Ginny?" she asked worriedly. "What's wrong?"

"It's Tom," Ginny said hoarsely. "Go get Dumbledore."

Hermione stood up and backed away, her face white with fright. She hurried down the steps yelling for the Professor. Ron whirled around to see his sister collapsed on the steps, panting with the effort to stay conscious.

"Ginny!" he shouted. "What is it? What's wrong?" He bent down and scooped her up, cradling her like a baby. "Where's Hermione gone?"

"Ron," Ginny gasped. Her body arched in his arms with the pain in her chest. She could barely speak through the hissing in her ears. Voldemort was really, really happy.

"It's _him_, Ron. Tell Dumbledore. He's got Harry-" the rest of her sentence was lost as the pain overtook her, and she fainted dead away.

Ginny opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the bright lights of what she recognised as the hospital wing. She moved her head slowly, testing her mobility and found that although she was a little sore, moving didn't hurt that much. She took a deep breath and pushed herself into a sitting position. The events of the previous night came rushing back, and she inhaled sharply. _Harry_. Where was he? Was he okay? She felt for the connection to Tom Riddle that had appeared last night in her brain and was relieved when it seemed to be inactive.

She looked around the room, and her eyes rested on a lump with a familiar head of black hair lying in a bed a few places down from her own. She swallowed.

"He's going to be fine, Ginny."

Ginny turned her head to see Professor Dumbledore sitting beside her bed. Her mother was sleeping in a bed behind him. Molly Weasley still had her robes on and looked like she'd just lain down for a catnap.

"Professor," Ginny breathed. "What happened?"

Dumbledore folded his hands inside his sleeves and regarded her over the top of his glasses. His normally twinkling eyes look sad and tired. "I'm afraid that Lord Voldemort has returned, Ginny." He looked over at Harry's bed. "He used a very dark magic ritual involving Harry's blood that restored him to his body, and then duelled Harry until Harry escaped."

"How did Harry do that? Escape, I mean."

Dumbledore's eyebrows lifted. "The Tri-Wizard Tournament cup was a Portkey. Placed in the maze by a servant of Tom Riddle. It was a trap. From start to finish."

"I felt him," she said quickly. "When he returned. I felt him inside me. I — I think he knows who I am."

"Most assuredly," Dumbledore said. He sighed heavily. "Cedric Diggory was with Harry. They took the cup together you see — a Hogwarts victory — and Peter Pettigrew killed Cedric. Harry had to bring his body back."

Ginny's heart stilled. And then she felt such an upswing of anger inside of her that her hands fisted in the bedclothes as she fought to maintain her temper. She couldn't even imagine what Harry had gone through. She looked over at him again. She would kill Tom Riddle. She'd kill him with her bare hands.

Dumbledore must have sensed her anger because an amused look came over his face, and he reached out to lay a calming hand on her shoulder. "I think all will be well. I would like to talk to both you and Harry later, but I think it can wait until this summer. I'll be sending Harry home to the Burrow." He looked quickly over at Harry's still sleeping body. "He will need his friends, Ginny."

"Yes, Professor. Thank you for not sending him back to those awful people."

Dumbledore nodded but there was a resigned look on his face. "There is a very good reason why he should be there but I'm afraid I don't have the heart to keep him from his friends. Ginny -" Dumbledore stood up and stepped closer. He kept his hand on her shoulder. "I cannot stress enough the support and understanding Harry will need. Especially from someone who understands, even a little bit, of what it is like to face Voldemort."

He stared pointedly at her, and Ginny nodded. Harry had helped her after her first year. And now, she would help him.

"Need some help?"

Harry turned around at the sound of Ginny's voice. He looked back at the hopeless mess of parchment, clothes and other junk he'd collected throughout the year and now had to fit into his trunk.

"I hate packing," he said morosely.

"I would too if I lived like a pig," she said wrinkling her nose. "Why do I even come up here? It always stinks."

"Oh and I suppose the girls' dorm smells fresh every morning," he retorted. He turned back to the pile on his bed and began sorting.

Ginny examined Harry critically. He'd been very silent on the subject of Voldemort's return. They'd talked a little bit, but he'd been closed off and functioning as if he was in a trance most of the time. The memorial service for Cedric had been rough, and the ministry's refusal to acknowledge Voldemort's return had them all on edge.

"Are you all right?" She asked the hated question knowing what sort of response it would get.

Harry didn't disappoint.

His face turned dark, and his hands fisted on what looked like a Rememberall before he swung it hard against a nearby wall. The glass cracked into pieces and fell to the carpet, a puff of red smoke evaporating into the air. Ginny didn't even flinch. She took out her wand and conjured a small pile of white china plates that looked suspiciously like the ones they ate on at the Burrow.

"Go on then," she said. "Have at it."

Harry grabbed the first plate and threw it at the wall where it gave a satisfying smash against the stone and fell to the carpet in tiny, china splinters. He grabbed another plate and another, hurling all the plates at the wall until he screamed at Ginny to give him something bigger, something more satisfying to break. Ginny conjured the first thing that popped into her head: a Hogwarts toilet seat. Harry just nodded his thanks, took the seat and smashed it repeatedly against the wall until it too broke into pieces. He collapsed to the floor, panting against the wall in a pile of broken crockery.

"Thanks," he gasped, looking up at her for the first time. "I needed that."

Ginny walked over and squatted in front of him, twirling her wand in her fingers. "I won't ask you for details," she said simply. "I know you'll tell me when you're ready. But I'd like to remind you that you are alive, and that you have people who care about you and who want to be there for you."

She reached out a hand and grasped his now sweaty neck. "You're alive," she repeated. "And I for one am grateful for that. You faced him, and you're alive."

"That's the thing, Ginny," he said bleakly. "I didn't want to be. I didn't want to come back. For a minute there, when he was holding the Cruciatus on me, I wanted to stop fighting. To just let him win, and then I would be in peace."

Ginny wasn't sure what to say. It was unlike Harry to give up on anything. "But you didn't, you changed your mind," she reminded him, shaking his head a little with the hand that was still on his neck. "You didn't let him win. Even if you thought about it, you still came back. That's important."

"Is it?" he asked. The bleak look was still on his face, and Ginny wondered if it would ever go away.

She nodded. "I know it is." She went down on her knees and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on his still-red scar, and then gently on his lips. It was meant to be a comforting kiss between friends, and she knew he'd understood her intention when she pulled back and saw a small smile on his lips.

"Thanks," he said, after she stood up, brushing bits of china off her trouser knees.

"Always, Harry," she smiled at him. "Always."


	12. Chapter 12 Voldemort Strikes First

A/N: Thanks to all of you who have been reading and reviewing. I'm glad to see that so many people like it and that even if you didn't, you still took the time to tell me! I hope you enjoy this chapter -- it's one of my favorites.

Chapter 12

A few weeks after he'd gone to stay at the Burrow, Harry fell into bed, exhausted after a day of degnoming the garden. He felt obligated to help around the house since the Weasleys were letting him stay there all summer.

"Harry." Ron knocked on his door and entered the room. "Are you awake? I need to tell you something."

"What is it?"

Ron sat on the edge of his bed, and Harry heard the wooden frame creak as he shifted around on it. "I've realized something. Something awful." 

Harry looked up at him then in concern. "What's wrong?"

Ron swallowed heavily. "I think I like Hermione…you know…in _that_ way."

Whatever Harry had expected hear, it wasn't that.

"Are you mad?" he said incredulously. "Of _course_ you like her."

"You knew?"

"Ron!" Harry sat up. "We ALL knew. Why do you think you acted like a jealous git over Viktor Krum all last term?"

"Well, if you knew why in the bloody hell didn't you tell me!" Ron burst out. "Hell, Harry, you could have said something before!"

Harry gaped at him. "Like you would have listened! Believe me, mate, if I thought it would have helped, I would have pointed it out months ago."

Ron collapsed on his back onto the foot of his bed with a thump. "I can't believe you knew all this time, and you didn't say anything. A simple, 'Oi, Ron, you like Hermione!' would have sufficed."

Harry couldn't help himself, and he laughed. "Ginny wanted to," he informed his friend, "but I convinced her it would be better if you realized it on your own."

Ron huffed and remained silent.

"So, what are you going to do about it?"

The bed creaked as Ron sat back up. "Nothing for it, mate. I've got to tell her. She'll probably laugh in my face, but I don't see any other way around it. Either I make a fool out of myself now telling her or later trying to impress her."

Harry rolled his eyes in the darkness. Ron was blind if he couldn't see that Hermione liked him as well.

"I don't think you'll embarrass yourself," he said. "Just be honest with her. And don't pick a fight with her."

Ron snorted and stood, heading for the door. "Easier said than done."

Ginny sat up in her bed at the Burrow, her head and heart pounding. She gasped, trying to breathe air into her lungs, but it felt like she was fighting for every breath. The dream had been the worse one yet.

Ginny threw back the bedclothes and wearily swung her legs around to the side of the bed. She glanced over at Hermione, hoping that her nightmare hadn't made too much noise, but her bushy-haired friend appeared to be fast asleep.

Stumbling on shaky legs, Ginny walked to her bedroom door and down the hall to the bathroom where she splashed water on her face. She forced herself to look in the mirror and was disgusted to see the bloodshot eyes and dark circles underneath them that betrayed her lack of sleep the past two weeks.

The dreams had begun the second night of the summer and had grown steadily worse in the weeks since. They were always the same: Tom Riddle, whose face alternated between the 16-year-old boy who'd possessed her and a large green snake, was pursuing her through a dark house. Ginny twisted and turned around corners all while knowing she couldn't, and wouldn't escape. Eventually, he caught her, and the scene shifted to another location. In this one, Tom forced Ginny to watch while he tortured and killed a family. She could never see their faces, but she knew it was a family by the way the father and mother begged for their children's lives to be spared. Tom seemed to focus especially on the taller boy. She didn't know who it was but she had the feeling she ought to know. Tom never let her see the boy's face — only the dark hair and tall silhouette.

Ginny sighed and splashed more water on her face. The _thing _that had awoken in her the night that Voldemort returned to power was making her insane. She hadn't told anyone , but she could feel Tom's presence inside of her. Sometimes she swore he was whispering to her. It was driving her mad. She desperately wanted to tell someone and had thought about confiding in Harry, but he'd been getting steadily better since their return to the Burrow, and she hadn't wanted to ruin his mental and emotional recovery from the events of last term.

She'd also thought about asking to see Dumbledore, but then her parents would want know why, and she'd be forced to lie to them. But the Headmaster would have to know eventually. She couldn't keep something like this a secret for long. If Tom's connection to her was stronger since he'd returned to his body then Dumbledore needed to know. She'd die before she'd let that snake use her against her family… and Harry.

Sliding a towel off a nearby wall hook, Ginny patted her face dry and opened the door silently. She paused outside Harry's door, half-hoping that he would be awake and they could go for a night time fly. It wouldn't be the first time they'd ran into each other after nightmares this summer. Most times they met in the kitchen. They'd found several entertaining ways to distract themselves from nightmares — many of them centred on Ron and the twins. Harry hadn't asked about her nightmares yet, but she knew it was just a matter of time before he cornered her and made her talk.

She moved down the hall back to her own bedroom when she heard a soft snore from behind Harry's door. Cursing to herself in parseltongue, Ginny crossed the hall back to her own bedroom and crawled silently back under the covers.

Harry was just digging into a full Weasley breakfast of bangers, mash and eggs when Ginny stumbled down to the kitchen table, obviously still half asleep. Mrs. Weasley greeted her gaily, but she just grumbled back and sat down next to Harry. She propped her head up on her hand and nearly fell asleep into the bowl of porridge Mrs. Weasley placed in front of her.

Harry nudged Ron who was heartily shoving two sausages into his mouth at the same time.

"What?" his friend asked. Only the word didn't come out quite that clear, as his mouth was full of food.

"Never mind," Harry said, disgusted with the bits of food Ron had sprayed in his direction.

Harry wanted someone besides himself to notice that Ginny was obviously out of sorts. She had been for the past two days actually. She'd been sleeping later and later and when she finally did get up, she acted like she hadn't slept at all. She'd been grumpy and ill-tempered, and yesterday she'd yelled at Harry when he'd taken his own broom out for a fly. Apparently, she'd been planning on nicking it. Of course, he'd yelled right back at her, and they'd had a flaming row under her bedroom window until it had hit Harry that Ginny probably wasn't really angry with him at all, and he'd left in a huff for the paddock behind the Burrow.

"What's up with you?" Harry asked under his breath in parseltongue. He figured she'd be more likely to answer him if her family couldn't understand. The fact that Mrs. Weasley stiffened when she heard him didn't escape his notice. It was no secret that Ginny's mum did not like the idea of her daughter speaking in parseltongue.

"Nothing," was Ginny's short reply. She dug her spoon into her porridge but didn't take a bite.

"Ginny," Harry warned.

She shot him a look that told him he was pushing his interference but answered anyway. "I've been having bad dreams," she said in parseltongue. "But they're…odd. Tom is there, and he's doing something horrible to someone I care about, but I can't tell who it is. Right before I see the face, I wake up. They seem really real, and it's hard to get back to sleep when they happen."

"Will you two stop that," Ron said suddenly. "It gives me the willies."

Ginny turned an icy gaze on him. "Prejudiced much, Ron?"

Ron snorted into his pumpkin juice. "Not likely. It just sounds weird."

"So do the pig sounds you make when you're eating but we don't make you take your breakfast in the barn," she retorted angrily.

Ron stuck his tongue out at her and shoved the last bit of his sausage in his mouth before standing up. "I'm going to go for a fly. Coming, Harry?"

"In a bit," Harry replied. "I'm not done eating yet."

After he'd gone, Ginny turned her chair so she was facing Harry and propped her legs up in his lap. He yelped when her cold feet brushed his arm.

"Blimey Ginny! You just got out of bed, how can your feet always be so cold?" He put down his fork and covered her feet with both hands, trying to warm them with friction. She smiled at him and took a bite of sausage off his plate.

Harry slid one hand up to an ankle and massaged it gently, almost absentmindedly while he finished his breakfast with the other hand. He'd just taken his final gulp of pumpkin juice when the Daily Prophet owl swooped in and dropped the paper in Ginny's lap. Mrs. Weasley rushed to drop a knut in the pouch on the bird's leg and began clearing the breakfast things.

Harry rubbed Ginny's feet again while remarking, "You have the tiniest toes" when he felt Ginny start to tremble. He looked up at her in alarm to find her gripping the edges of the newspaper with both hands. Her face was white and the paper was shaking in her grasp as she stared at it with wide eyes.

"Ginny? What's wrong? What is it?"

"It's — it's Michael," she whispered shakily. She looked at Harry, tears in her eyes. "He's -- he's dead. T-Tom k-killed him."

Harry lunged for the paper, ripped it out of her hands and handed it to Mrs. Weasley who was standing next to the table, her mouth covered with both hands.

"Harry? Harry!" Ginny was going into convulsions, and she looked like she might pass out.

Harry set her feet down on the floor and grabbed her out of her seat to pull her onto his lap. He cradled her like a small child and looked at Mrs. Weasley who sunk into the seat on the other side of him. They read the paper together while Ginny trembled in Harry's arms. Voldemort had attacked Michael and his family in the middle of the night. The Dark Mark had been found hanging over their home by neighbours who had reported several flashes of green light. Ministry Aurors had confirmed that Michael and his parents were victims of the Killing curse. No one seemed to know why the Corner family was targeted as Voldemort had left the rest of the wizards in the area alone.

"He killed him because of me," Ginny whimpered, her face buried in Harry's neck. "Those dreams. Tom was killing Michael. He was sending me visions, Harry. I just know it." She lifted her head to look at him. "He killed him because we were dating. I don't think he'll _ever_ let me go."

Harry could only stare at her. When she pressed her face back into his neck he looked helplessly at Mrs. Weasley who nodded and stood up to send a letter to Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley.

Harry pressed fierce kisses on Ginny's temple and down the side of her face and held her when she started to cry. "It's going to be all right, Gin," he said into her ear. "We'll get him, I promise. He won't get away with it. I promise."

Harry believed even himself. He was going to kill Tom Riddle with his bare hands.

The funeral for Michael Corner and his family was held two days later at an undisclosed location. Only Ginny and her brother Bill attended from the Weasley family as Dumbledore hadn't wanted to attract Voldemort's attention any more than was necessary. He'd even suggested that Ginny not attend the service, but she'd protested strongly and he'd agreed to let her go with Bill.

Ginny and Bill were gone for two days. Ginny had wanted to spend some time with Michael's grandparents even though she'd told Harry she didn't think anything would assuage the guilt she felt over Michael's death. He'd tried to tell her it wasn't her fault, but that was like trying to tell him that Cedric's death wasn't his fault; and since he was pretty positive it was at least partially his fault, he understood how she felt.

Harry had dreams about Cedric's death almost nightly at the beginning of the summer. He was thoroughly enjoying himself at the Weasleys' house but it wasn't until three weeks into the summer that he started sleeping through the night. Ginny and Harry had found interesting ways to entertain themselves when they happened to both awake because of a nightmare. Pranks on the twins, Ron and even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been great fun and Harry didn't think he'd ever had a better summer.

When she returned home from the funeral Ginny was understandably sullen and morose. She had headed straight for her room where she spent three days before emerging. Mrs. Weasley had wanted to force her to come out, but Bill and Mr. Weasley had convinced her that Ginny needed time to grieve alone. When Ginny finally did come out, she'd immediately picked a fight with Harry who let her because he knew she was just letting off steam. Even though they'd shouted at each other in the living room over Ginny's attitude, he knew she felt a little better when she came down to breakfast the next morning.

After breakfast, Ginny volunteered to degnome the garden and insisted she didn't want any help. Harry waited a few minutes before following her outside and leaned against the fence as she chased down gnomes and hurled them into the meadow beyond.

"Nice one," he commented after a particularly good throw.

She scowled at him and chased after another potato-like gnome, which she hurled even farther before turning to him, breathing heavily.

"What do you want, Harry?"

He shrugged. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth. She bent down and snagged another gnome, tossing it mercilessly over the fence.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Nope."

He watched while she stalked a gnome around a rosebush. "Must've been hard," he commented. "Meeting Michael's family and all. I can't imagine how difficult that must have been for you." The truth was he _could_ imagine it, he'd had to meet with Cedric's parents after the tournament, but he didn't think this was a good time to bring that up.

"Yup."

Harry took a deep breath and pushed himself up from the fence. "Look, Ginny, I just want you to know that I'm your friend, okay? I love you and if there's anything you want to talk about, anything you want to get off your chest, I'm here for you."

Ginny didn't respond except to grab another gnome by the ankles and toss it over the fence.

"When you're ready to talk, just let me know," said Harry. He was a little disappointed by her lack of response, but knew she might just need more time. He turned to go.

He'd gotten to the edge of the garden when Ginny said, "What was that middle part again?"

He turned back. "What do you mean?"

Ginny straightened up and faced him, her hands on her hips. "Did you say you loved me?"

Harry opened his mouth, and then shut it again, and then opened it back up. He let out a nervous laugh, "Well, um-"

"Harry Potter loves _me_." She was teasing him now, a typically-Ginny sardonic grin tugging at her lips.

"All I meant was-"

"No, seriously — very sweet," she assured him. "You love me."

Harry laughed nervously again and decided to look everywhere but directly at her.

"No… you love me. You can't take it back, there's no takebacks."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to head back towards the house. "You're dreaming, Ginny!" he called over his shoulder.

"You love me," she reminded him, a wide grin on her face.

"You're dreaming it."

"Uh-huh. I know what you said, Harry. I know what I heard," she called. "You love me."

"Dreamer," he shouted back, letting the kitchen door slam behind him. He would deny he said such a thing to his dying day.

"Oh-kay," Ginny said under her breath. A smile still on her face, she bent down to grab another gnome and tossed it over the fence.

Three days later, Dumbledore moved Harry and the entire Weasley family to Sirius's family home at No. 12 Grimmauld Place. He said it was for their protection, but Harry and Ron decided it was actually some sort of punishment. Compared to the Burrow the place was a prison. It was dark and dreary and there was no place to ride your broom; although Fred and George had tried several times — much to the delight of Sirius.

Shortly after their arrival, Hermione arrived and Ron immediately ushered her behind a closed door. Harry winked at him as he shut their bedroom door in his face, but Ron just scowled at him. Later, Ron and Hermione appeared in the kitchen, holding hands and beaming. Ron's ears were red, and Harry could have sworn he had a little bit of lip-gloss at the corner of his mouth.

Living with Sirius was the only good thing about the move. For the first time in his life, Harry let himself feel like he had, maybe not a parent, but an older brother or uncle perhaps. Someone who was looking out for just him; someone who was solely on his side. It was Sirius who went head-to-head with Mrs. Weasley and insisted that Harry be allowed to know what the Order of the Phoenix and Voldemort were up to. And it was Sirius who brought Harry some of his favourite magical defence books and suggested Harry might want to do some "extra" reading this summer.

It was also Sirius who teased him about Ginny.

No matter how many times Harry protested they were just friends, Sirius was relentless.

"She reminds me a bit of your mother, Harry," he said. "What is it with Potters and redheads?" He caught Harry's eye and let out a sharp bark of laughter that sounded eerily like an actual dog's bark.

"Except…" Sirius hesitated.

"What?" Harry asked, curious in spite of himself. "Except what?"

"Except that she's got a…I don't know…a sort of quality," Sirius said slowly. "She's strong, as was your mother, and powerful certainly, but there's something about her that seems…tough — almost hard. Sometimes you feel like she's fighting just to smile."

"Voldemort killed her boyfriend," Harry said defensively. "How would you be?"

Sirius examined the walls they were cleaning thoughtfully. "Was she in love with the bloke?"

"I dunno," Harry said. "I expect she feels more guilt than anything. He killed him just because he was dating Ginny. She's still dealing with it. She used to be a bit more…fun."

"Bet you know how she feels," Sirius pointed out. "You're blaming yourself for Cedric's death."

"Even though it wasn't your fault," he added under his breath.

Harry rolled his eyes. He'd grown weary of people telling him Cedric's death wasn't his fault. And as much as Harry wanted to believe that, he knew he would always feel some responsibility for it.

"Maybe you could try talking to her," Sirius suggested.

"I have," Harry said shortly. "But you can't rush her. She'll talk when she's ready."

The truth was that Harry had noticed Ginny pulling further and further away from everyone. She hadn't had any sort of breakdown since that first one, when she'd read about Michael's death in the newspaper, but she spent a lot of time alone. Harry had caught her curled up on his bed several times, lost in the defence books Sirius had given him. Occasionally she'd deem to play a game of exploding snap or chess, but most of the time she was reading or scrubbing furiously at whatever Mrs. Weasley had assigned them to clean that day.

Sirius looked at him critically. "All joking aside then, you two are close aren't you?"

"Yes," Harry answered. "But don't remind her, she'll probably sock me for talking about her behind her back."

"Kissed her yet?"

"What? No! I told you, we're just friends, Sirius!" Harry threw his dirty rag at his godfather who caught it laughing. "We just…uh…have a lot in common."

"Yes," said Sirius, suddenly strangely quiet. "I imagine you do."

Later that evening, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were finishing up the rest of their summer homework in the parlour when Fred and George suggested an epic game of Muggle poker upstairs. Ron set aside his essay eagerly, and even Hermione was convinced to participate after Fred and George threatened to bodily carry her up the stairs. Harry stood up to follow when he noticed Ginny had remained on the couch.

"Coming, Fury?" He stopped in the doorway and looked back at her.

She looked up and smiled briefly at him. "No thanks. I want to finish this."

Harry instantly decided he'd had enough. Ginny was the best poker player in the house; it wasn't like her to choose homework over playing.

"Harry, c'mon!"

Harry looked at Ron waiting for him at the foot of the stairs and then back at Ginny whose head was bent over her essay. "I'll be up in a minute Ron," he said, coming to a decision. "You can deal me in when I get there."

Ron looked past Harry to his sister sitting on the couch and nodded briefly. "Right. See you in a bit." 

Harry waited until he heard Ron's footsteps reach the top of the stairs before turning back to Ginny. He walked over, whipped the parchment and quill out of her hand and set it on the table next to her. She looked up at him in surprise, but he just turned his back to her and sat down. Right on top of her.

"Harry!" Ginny squirmed underneath him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sitting here and I'm not moving until you agree to talk to me," he informed her. He braced his feet against the floor and pushed her back into the cushions.

"I've let you mope enough," he continued. "When Ginny Weasley turns down the chance to whip her brothers' arses at poker, I know something's wrong. And we're going to sit here until you tell me what it is."

"Harry, you're heavy! Get off me!" Ginny tried shoving him off, but he was too heavy for her.

"Oh look. What's this in my pocket? My wand! I wonder what I can do with that?" Harry mused. "The words 'permanent sticking charm' come to mind. I'm sure the Ministry won't be able to tell, not in this house anyway."

"Get. Off. Me." Ginny thumped and pounded on his back with her fists. She tried moving her legs, but he'd rendered her immobile.

"Only one way I know of to get me to move, Ginny," Harry reminded her. "I tried being nice about this. I left you alone, I told you that I was ready whenever you wanted to talk, but it's been nearly two months now and you've turned into a sulky, standoffish git."

"Nice," Ginny said, her words dripping with sarcasm. "That's a sure way to get me to confide in you. Call me names. Oh, I can't wait to pour my heart out."

"Ginny," Harry warned. "You are my friend, and I want to help you, but you've got to meet me halfway."

"Squashing me to death is helping?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Point," Harry conceded. "But if you'd just talk, I'd get off."

Ginny huffed against his back and fell silent.

Harry waited a moment to see if she would begin talking, but when she remained silent he spoke again. "Say, would you mind scratching my back? It could use a good scratching." He wiggled his back at her and fought back a laugh.

"When I can feel my legs again, I am going to kill you," Ginny said plainly.

"Are you ready to talk?"

Ginny sighed and let her forehead rest against his back. "Fine, I'll talk. Now would you please move?"

"Promise?" Harry said warily.

"Promise. Here, lift up a little bit." Harry pushed himself off her legs a few inches and she spread them before tugging him back down to sit in the space between her spread thighs. Harry leaned back against her until his head was tucked in the space where her shoulder met her neck. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her forearms resting on his chest. Her legs came up and wrapped around his waist, her feet resting on his thighs. He sighed happily.

"This is very comfortable."

She grunted, and he reached up to hold both of her hands in his. "Okay, now will you please tell me what's bothering you?"

"I should think it was obvious," she said dryly.

"Gin, I know you feel guilty, I understand that, I really do. But you must know that you are not responsible for Michael or his parents' death. Voldemort made that decision on his own. He's an evil bastard."

"But still, if I hadn't dated him, he wouldn't be dead," she whispered.

"Maybe," Harry said. "Or maybe not. And you couldn't have known what Tom would do. Are you going to stop dating for the rest of your life just in case Voldemort decides to go after them?"

"Maybe."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "I don't think that's the right attitude to have. If you do that, you're letting him control your life, your happiness. Don't you see? That's what he wants! He wants to ruin every good thing in your life. In my life. In everyone's life."

"Do you still feel guilty about Cedric?"

He swallowed heavily. "Yes. Intensely so sometimes. But I know, I KNOW, that even though I'll always feel some responsibility for it, logically, it wasn't my fault. I can't foresee the future and there's no way to change what happened. I have to ask myself, what could I have done differently? And the answer is: nothing. I did what I thought was best."

"Voldemort wants you to feel guilty," he pleaded with her. "He wants you sacrifice your own happiness. He wants you broken and beaten down so he can swoop in without a fight. He's the one that's weak. You are strong. And, yeah, it hurts. It's probably always going to hurt, but you have to ask yourself, what would Tom Riddle want you to do? And then do the opposite."

"That's quite a speech," she commented. She tugged one of her hands from his grasp and used it to stroke his hair back from his forehead.

"Thanks, I've been working on it for awhile. It's a mixture of things you, Hermione and Sirius keep telling me."

She laughed then, and he felt her press her cheek against the side of his head. "Do you want to know the worst part?" she asked softly.

"What?"

"I didn't even love him," Ginny said. "We hadn't known each other very long, but I knew that I wasn't in love with him. He was nice, and he paid lots of attention to me and I thought 'what the hell, someone finally finds me attractive,' but I wasn't in love with him. He died, and he didn't even get to die for love." She gave a bitter laugh. "I probably would have dumped him eventually — pity I didn't do it sooner."

Harry wanted to say that HE found her attractive, and that he had for a long time, but he sensed it wouldn't be the best time to mention it.

"He didn't die for nothing," Harry said firmly. "Because of his death, people are starting to believe Professor Dumbledore about Voldemort being back. Despite the Ministry insisting he's not."

"I just get so angry sometimes Harry," she said, frustrated. "So angry that I want to HIT something. Tom Riddle preferably."

"You can hit me," he offered.

"That's sweet but no. I feel like pummelling something. It was better at the Burrow when I could degnome the garden or something."

"Is that why you've been stalking around here like an angry cat and scrubbing floors?"

"Yeah," she said. "The only good part is that Tom hasn't visited my nightmares lately."

"I wonder if we could find you a punching bag," Harry thought out loud.

"What's that?" 

He sat up and twisted halfway around so he could look at her. "It's a muggle thing," he said excitedly. "You wear padded gloves and you hit this big heavy bag filled with sand. Its how boxers train for fights. I wonder if your Dad knows how to get one. We'll ask him tomorrow at breakfast."

He stood up and held out a hand to pull her up. "C'mon, let's go join the game."

She took his hand, but resisted his efforts to pull her up. "I don't know. It'd be like pretending nothing had happened, wouldn't it?"

"So you can't have fun because what… Michael might not think you're honouring his memory?" Harry looked at her in disbelief. "That's crazy, Ginny. Life doesn't end. Haven't you been listening to anything I've said?"

"I have, Harry, I really have," she assured him. "It's just," she looked down and twisted the hem of her jumper around her finger. "It just feels…unfair. That I get to be alive and he doesn't. That I get to have fun and he doesn't."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Because he'd felt the same way about Cedric. Cedric who was a loyal Hufflepuff, who'd had a beautiful girlfriend, who was Head Boy, and who should have been alive so that he could pass his NEWTS with flying colours. Cedric, who had a million friends…

"I know, Ginny," he said finally. He cleared his throat. "But I don't know what to tell you. Life shouldn't stop because people die. We've got to keep going or Voldemort wins anyway. I don't know why we're alive and they aren't, but there's got to be a reason for it."

He squatted down in front of her. "I, for one, am glad _you're_ here," he said quietly. "Sometimes, I don't know what I'd do without you."

Ginny looked at him, a wary look in her eyes.

"I really mean that. And for what it's worth, I think you are very attractive," Harry finished. "I'd shag you in a minute."

Ginny's mouth dropped open, and she stared at him in shock. "Harry Potter! I can't believe you said that!"

Harry fell back on the floor, roaring with laughter. "You should have seen your face!" He laughed some more, and she picked up a pillow from the couch and threw it at him. He caught in his stomach, but it did nothing to stop the laughter.

"Well, I wouldn't shag you," she said primly, getting to her feet. She purposely stepped on his stomach as she stepped over him and headed for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Harry lifted his head to inquire.

"To the poker game. You did say you wanted me to kick your arse, didn't you?" She looked back at him innocently.

He laughed again. He got to his feet, and when he reached the foot of the stairs where she was waiting, he bent down and scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

"C'mon," he said, slapping her on her rump. "I feel like watching Ron cry again when you take all his money."

"Harry Potter! I know you did NOT just hit me on my bum!"

"Honestly, Ginny, you're such a prude today." They passed Sirius and Remus in the hallway, and Harry waved at them merrily while Ginny complained that all the blood was rushing to her head.

"No, Harry," Sirius whispered sarcastically under his breath after the two had passed. "Nothing going on there at all."

As it turned out, Mr. Weasley wasn't much help in finding Ginny a muggle punching bag. Sirius, however, came through with flying colours. He frowned thoughtfully when Harry had made his request the next morning at breakfast.

"A muggle punching bag? What do you want that for?" he asked.

"It's not for me," Harry said, looking anywhere but at his godfather. "It's for Ginny."

A delighted grin spread over Sirius' face, but whatever he was going to say was effectively silenced when Ginny entered the room. Harry examined her face carefully for signs of a nightmare, but her eyes were clear, and she gave him a tiny smile that he hoped meant that she was feeling a little better.

She slid into the seat next to him, and Harry turned his attention back to Sirius. "So where is it?"

Sirius wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up to take his breakfast dishes to the sink. "It's downstairs in the basement," he told them. "Along with some gloves. I'm not sure why it's there as my parents abhorred all things muggle, but my older brother Regulus somehow convinced them it was necessary. And since Regulus usually got what he wanted, they bought him one. I don't think it's been used very much, but I'm sure Regulus put some sort of preservation charm on everything. You're welcome to it. Just don't hurt him too much, Ginny."

Ginny snickered while Harry choked on his pumpkin juice. "Hey," he protested, once he swallowed. "I can take her!"

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "Sure you can, Harry. Sure you can."

Ginny laughed again, and Sirius joined her as he sat back down at the table with a cup of tea.

"Do you know how to box?" Harry asked eagerly. "Will you show us how to use it?"

"Sure," Sirius shrugged. "It's pretty easy to learn how to punch a heavy bag though. It's people who are hard to hit."

Two weeks later, Harry and Sirius were watching Ginny pummel the heavy bag in the corner of Grimmauld Place's basement. The small redhead was an impressive sight of fists and feet. She'd even added her own improvisations to the moves Sirius had shown them when she added a kick to series of punches. Harry had tried to copy her, but he just wasn't as limber as Ginny.

Harry knew hitting the punching bag was helping Ginny get rid of a lot of angry energy, but he hadn't anticipated how much better it would make him feel. He'd felt a little silly at first, but quickly grew to appreciate how good it felt to hit something. Lately he'd felt the anger inside of him swelling out of control. Professor Dumbledore had refused to look at him the other day, and Mrs. Weasley was insistent that he remain a child as long as possible. She and Sirius fought daily over whether Harry was old enough to know Voldemort's movements.

Dumbledore had refused to talk to either him or Ginny, even after she'd purposely hung behind everyone to talk to him. She hadn't told Harry what she wanted to talk to the Headmaster about, but when the Professor had made some flimsy excuse and flooed out of Grimmauld Place, she'd gotten very angry. She and Harry had both worked up quite a sweat that night in the basement.

Harry tore his gaze away from the sight of Ginny's stomach muscles clenching and flexing as she worked the bag over. When she'd first donned the black sports bra and stretchy black pants Tonks had brought to headquarters for her, Harry had been unable to hide his staring. He'd never seen so much of Ginny's skin and workout clothes or not — she was dead sexy in them.

Since then, he'd gotten more used to seeing her in the outfit, but he still occasionally caught himself staring.

"It's a good thing her brothers aren't here to see you drool over their baby sister," Sirius murmured to Harry. He nudged Harry in the side with a sharp elbow and didn't even try to hide his grin when his godson scowled at him.

"I'm not drooling," Harry hissed at Sirius. "I'm just, you know… admiring."

Sirius snorted. "It's okay, you know. You're allowed to look."

"No, I'm not," Harry said shortly. "She's my friend." He decided not to deny that he'd been checking Ginny out. It wasn't the first time Sirius had caught him at it.

"Sure," Sirius said knowingly.

Harry was about to retort when they both heard someone descending the steps. Ginny must have heard the noise as well because she stood in place, panting heavily, her gloved hands moving to still the punching bag.

Harry was shocked when Professor Dumbledore appeared in the doorway. He smiled genially at them, glancing questioningly at the sweating Ginny before looking back at Sirius.

"Sirius," he began conversationally. "I wonder if you might let me have a word with Harry and Ginny. Alone."

Sirius' gaze narrowed, but he nodded sharply. "Drink something so you don't get dehydrated," he said, looking hard at Ginny, before he turned towards the stairs. Ginny nodded and walked over to Harry, holding her gloves out for him to untie.

Dumbledore waited until Sirius ascended the stairs and closed the door behind him. Harry silently handed Ginny a towel and waited for their Professor to speak.

"I must begin by apologizing to both of you," Dumbledore said. "I promised you we would speak long before this but I have been… busy."

Ginny nodded. Her lips tightened, but she remained silent.

"What did you want to talk to us about, Professor?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore sighed and pulled out his wand. He conjured up three purple, squashy chairs and motioned for them to sit down.

"I want to talk about Voldemort," Dumbledore said bluntly. "I know Sirius has spoken to you, Harry, about some of his movements this summer, and I assume you have shared this information with your friends." His eyes slid pointedly towards Ginny.

"He's not told us much," Harry shrugged. "Just that the Order is guarding something at the Ministry that Voldemort wants. I gather he's been pretty silent other than that."

Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "It's true, Voldemort has remained rather silent. And this worries me. It means he's planning something."

"What?" Ginny spoke for the first time.

"I wish I knew," Dumbledore said ruefully. "But I have a bad feeling that when it comes to Voldemort — no news is bad news."

Harry didn't know what to say to that so he and Ginny both remained silent while they waited for Dumbledore to tell them the reason for this impromptu meeting.

"Just tell us, Professor," Ginny finally said bluntly. "What is it?"

The old wizard smiled faintly and took a deep breath. "Very well," he said. "I know that you, Ginevra, have been able to feel a connection to Tom Riddle since he regained his body and your connection to him, Harry, has already been established. This connection worries me."

"How so?" Harry was instantly on his guard.

"I'm afraid that Voldemort will be able to… use you."

Ginny stiffened, but didn't seem surprised by this announcement. Dumbledore noticed and said, "This doesn't surprise you, Ginny?" 

She hesitated, and then shook her head. "No. I'd wondered the same thing."

"Why?" Harry asked shrewdly. "Why would you assume that?"

Ginny opened her mouth and then closed it and then opened it up again. "Um… well, my dreams — I think Tom is influencing them. And well…I think…I think I can hear him speaking to me sometimes."

Both Dumbledore and Harry inhaled sharply and Ginny rushed to explain. "It seems to be Tom, not Voldemort. It's almost like a whisper, in my head. And it doesn't happen all the time, just when I'm angry, or upset about something. Or in my dreams. Once, he even sent me a vision."

"What sort of vision?" Dumbledore asked sharply.

Ginny shrugged. "It was of the Chamber. When he took me down there. I saw myself on the ground where Harry found me. It was creepy, but nothing I haven't seen in my nightmares a million times. And of course there were those series of visions about Michael."

Dumbledore looked at her with what Harry decided was sympathy before his gaze shifted to Harry. "And you, Harry? Have you had visions you couldn't explain?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Well, sir, I wouldn't call them visions exactly. More like…reoccurring dreams."

Dumbledore lifted his eyebrows. "What happens in them?"

Harry shrugged. "It's a long corridor, but I wake up before I can open the door."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, and he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Very well, I trust you will both keep me informed if you have more visions or dreams. You can send a letter with Hagrid." He stood up to go, and Ginny sprang up as well.

"Wait a minute," she said hotly. "You haven't explained how Voldemort intends to use us."

Dumbledore smiled genially at her. "I wish I knew, Miss Weasley. The truth is I have no idea."

"But the connection," Harry said nervously. "Between us and Voldemort. There's got to be something we can do about that."

"Ah, yes, I did forget to mention that, silly of me." Dumbledore took a deep breath. "I've arranged for you both to receive Occlumency lessons from Professor Snape. Occlumency is a way of blocking your mind from intruders and Snape is an accomplished-"

"We know what Occlumency is, Professor," Harry said harshly, "and there is no way we're taking lessons from Snape."

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore said mildly.

"There is no way in bloody hell we are taking lessons from _Professor_ Snape," Ginny said sharply, her arms crossed over her chest. "I'm not letting that greasy-haired git into my mind."

Dumbledore drew himself up and folded his hands together in his sleeves. "It is the only option we have right now in protecting either of your minds from Voldemort," he said. "Professor Snape is the best Occlumens I know. It's him or nothing."

"Professor," Harry said urgently. "Why can't you teach us?"

Dumbledore's shoulders slumped a little. "I could not," he said. "We can't risk Voldemort using your connection to see into my head. Occlumency can go both ways, you know, and it would be very dangerous if either of you were to inadvertently break into my mind during lessons."

Harry shot Ginny a questioning look. She was flushed with anger, but she met his eyes with a hard stare, a silent conversation taking place between them.

Harry nodded imperceptibly and looked back at Dumbledore who watching them with a curious look on his face.

"Fine," Harry said shortly. "We'll do it with Snape, but if he tries anything the lessons are off."

"And you can tell him to check his anti-Gryffindor attitude at the door," Ginny added.

Dumbledore, who knew when to pick his battles, nodded and agreed easily before bidding them goodbye, leaving them alone in the basement.

Harry felt like screaming in frustration. "Lessons with Snape!" he nearly shouted. "What the hell is he playing at? That git isn't going to teach us a thing. He's probably going to break into our minds and feed information to Voldemort!"

"Harry," Ginny said, interrupting his tirade. She held out her hands. "Put my gloves back on."

After a hot shower that did little to ease the soreness of her muscles, Ginny made her way wearily to Buckbeak's room. She needed time to think, and it was the only place in the house that was remotely private.

After bowing slowly to Buckbeak and patting the hippogriff on his feathery head, Ginny slid down the wall next to his pen and rested her head in her hands.

Punching that silly bag in the basement had done little to ease her mind. After Dumbledore had gone, she spent another thirty minutes hitting and kicking the bag and each time her fists hit, she'd heard Tom's voice laughing at her. The words Dumbledore had said repeated themselves over and over again in her head: _"Connection with Voldemort, connection with Voldemort…"_

And Snape! They were going to have to meet with Snape! Ginny shuddered. She didn't want that hook-nosed bastard in her head — even if she did get along with him reasonably well. Poor Harry…Snape hated him more than he hated any other Gryffindor.

She'd read about Occlumency — it was supposed to be very difficult to learn. They were surely in for it.

She heard the door open and looked up to see Sirius enter the room. He glanced her direction, but bowed to Buckbeak and held up a bag full of rats to show the hippogriff.

Ginny watched while Sirius dumped the bag in front of Buckbeak, who snapped them up eagerly. Sirius patted Buckbeak's side affectionately before looking at Ginny.

"He gets tired of being cooped up in here," Sirius said. "I feel bad for him."

"Me too," Ginny said sympathetically. "It must be hard on him not to be able to fly."

"Better than being dead, which is what he'll be if the Ministry finds him," Sirius said. "Guess that's something."

Ginny nodded in agreement, and they spent several minutes in a comfortable silence while Buckbeak munched happily on his rats.

"Are you going to hurt my godson?" Sirius asked suddenly.

Ginny looked up startled. "What?"

"Are you going to hurt Harry?" Sirius asked patiently. "I only ask because, well, he's my godson — I'm the closest thing to a parent he has and it strikes me that parents ought to be concerned about such things."

"Why would I hurt Harry?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"Why indeed," Sirius said, stretching out his legs in front of him. "You're very close, aren't you?"

"Yes," Ginny said, her brow wrinkling in confusion. "But does that mean I'm going to hurt him? Because we're close friends?"

Sirius shook his head in amusement. "You're as blind as he is." He swivelled his head towards her. "Let's just cut to the chase, shall we? You're in love with my godson."

Ginny's mouth dropped open in shock. She would have stuttered, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. She just stared at Sirius in amazement, his words ringing in her ears like a sort of echo.

"It's all right," he assured her. "I think you're perfect for him. Seal of approval and all that. I don't think he knows though, so you'll have to-"

"I am not in love with Harry!" Ginny interrupted loudly, finding her voice. "What on earth gave you that idea?"

Sirius titled his head at her. "Well, you're very close — I've seen you together. And the way you act around each other," he shrugged, "I just assumed."

"We act like friends!" Ginny shrieked. "Best friends!"

Sirius just smirked in silence at her.

"All right so we're unusually close best friends," Ginny snapped at him. "But we've been through a lot together. Harry's got my back and I've got his."

"Do you deny that you're attracted to him?" he asked.

Ginny opened her mouth to deny it but an image of a sweaty Harry, naked from the torso up, punching that muggle bag downstairs flashed through her mind. The way his green eyes glittered in concentration…his messy black hair, wet with sweat, falling into his eyes…the boyish grin he sometimes gave her…the way her lips tingled long after he'd pecked them in a friendly kiss goodnight…

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, I'd say the flush on your lovely cheeks is an admission of guilt, Red."

"Well so what?" she snapped. "Harry is a very attractive guy. There's nothing wrong with appreciating him. I assure you, though," she gave him a withering glare, "we are just friends."

'Oh, c'mon, Red," Sirius chided. "You've never thought of being more? Not even a little bit?"

Ginny set aside her objections to that statement to gaze at him shrewdly. "Why are you doing this? Are you trying to set us up or something?"

Sirius shifted under her gaze. "I just want him to be happy, okay? He's my godson and well…you make him happy. He deserves you."

"Harry makes me happy too," Ginny said slowly. "But not in the way that you mean. I'm not sure we could be what you're suggesting. It might ruin our friendship and nothing," she reached out to poke Sirius on the shoulder, "is more important to me than our friendship."

Sirius grabbed her finger and shook it a little before releasing it. "Yeah, I get that," he said. "You can deny it all you want but there's something more between you two. I can see it. I saw it with James and Lily and I see it with you and Harry."

Ginny's face flushed red. She did NOT want to be compared to Harry's parents. "Now, wait just a minute-"

"Save it, Red," Sirius interrupted. "You're not going to say anything I haven't heard before. But listen to me, Ginny," he reached forward and grabbed her wrist.

"There's a bloody war on," he said earnestly, "things happen, and those we care about could be gone before we had a chance to tell them how much they meant to us. One minute you're on top of the world, and the next, everyone you love is gone. And it hurts even more because you can't ever be sure they knew what they really meant to you. Don't make the same mistakes I did. Tell Harry how you feel, before it's too late."

"Harry knows how I feel, Sirius," Ginny said softly. She withdrew her wrist and grasped his hand. "I promise."

Sirius shook his head. "You're so blind; you don't see what I see. Maybe it's too soon; maybe I shouldn't have said anything." 

He shrugged and smiled sheepishly at her. "I had to try. If I learned one thing in Azkaban, it was to never let a moment pass you by. Regrets are something you live with forever."

Ginny smiled back at him and released his hand. "I'm glad you care for Harry so much. He needs that. He needs you."

"He needs you too," Sirius said knowingly.

The door opened just then and Harry poked his head around the corner. "Fury? Are you in — oh, hey… what's going on?"

"Just feeding Buckbeak," Sirius said smoothly. He stood up and brushed off the seat of his robes.

"Harry," Ginny said conversationally, "Sirius was just telling me what an attractive person you are. He thinks we have deep-seeded feelings for each other and that we ought to get married or something."

She stood up and grinned smugly at Sirius whose mouth dropped open in surprise.

"What?" Harry said sharply. He glared at Sirius. "Sirius, what the hell-"

"Red is just trying to get me in trouble," Sirius glared at Ginny, who stuck her tongue out him. "We were just having a nice chat."

"A nice chat about Harry," Ginny replied in a singsong voice. She smirked when Sirius dragged his finger across his throat in her direction and mouthed an obscenity at her.

"No thanks, Sirius," Ginny said cheerily. She looked at her watch. "Oh my goodness, will you look at the time? I told mum I'd help her with dinner." She shot another knowing smirk at Sirius and walked towards the door. She stopped when she reached Harry and looked at him appraisingly. His hair was still wet from his shower and he smelled like soap.

"You know what though? You are awfully attractive," she grinned up at him. "Hmm…maybe I should-" she reached up and fisted her hands in Harry's collar. She yanked him down and met his lips in a searing kiss. Harry let out a small huff in surprise, but he let her kiss him.

Ginny moved her lips over Harry's, and tried to wrench her mouth away when she felt him begin to respond to her. His hands shot up to grip her hips to stop her from leaving as he quickly took control of the kiss. Ginny felt her brain begin to turn to mush as the heat from his mouth ran like electricity through her blood until her entire body was tingling with the sensation. Warning bells were going off in her brain, but she had started this and now she had to finish it. She managed to gather enough strength to finally push Harry away.

Ginny tried not to show how the kiss affected her, but she figured he could tell when her knees buckled. She stumbled into his chest and looked up with him through languid eyes.

He grinned down at her as a slow smirk broke over her face.

"Enjoyed that, did you?"

"Hmm…" she said noncommittally. "Just a bit."

"Well, I wasn't trying very hard," he said modestly. She laughed, and they grinned stupidly at each other.

"You, Potter," Ginny said, pushing herself away from his embrace, "are going to make some witch very, very happy someday. You need to get your arse out of your head and ask a girl out because it is a shame to keep that mouth off the streets."

She smiled brilliantly at him, shot Sirius a look, and patted Harry's cheek before gliding gracefully from the room.

Harry wiped a bit of lip gloss off the corner of his mouth and turned to face Sirius who had a mischievous look on his face.

"Not a _word_, Sirius," he warned. "Not a bloody word."

Ginny awoke from her latest nightmare shaking with fright. She was used to nightmares that left her with the idea that she was terrified or dreams that relived horrific scenes from the Chamber of Secrets. But this dream had been different. Voldemort had killed Harry. There had been screaming, flashes of light and blood…lots of blood.

She sat up in bed and pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. She tried to reassure herself that what happened in the dream was NOT what was going to happen to Harry. This wasn't like her prophetic dreams about what had happened to Michael and his family. She tried to breathe past the pang in her heart when she thought about what Tom had done to Michael. When she thought about the same thing happening to Harry — the pang turned into a full-blown panic attack.

Ginny threw back the covers and tiptoed past Hermione's bed. She had to make sure Harry was all right. Once in the hallway, she walked quickly and silently to Ron and Harry's room. She opened the door slowly and shut it softly behind her, freezing when Ron gave a loud snore and rolled over in his bed to face the wall. Relieved that the light from hallway hadn't woken her brother up, she tiptoed to Harry's bed and shook his shoulder gently.

"Harry," she whispered urgently. "Harry, wake up."

Harry shot up in bed and looked around panicked. "Wha-mmpf."

Ginny clamped a hand over his mouth and hissed in his ear. "Sshhh…it's me. Don't wake up Ron."

Harry blinked and fumbled for his glasses on the table beside the bed. "Ginny?" He said blearily. "What are you doing here? What's wrong?"

Ginny clenched her still trembling hands into fists. "I-I had a nightmare and had to see if you were okay."

Harry stared at her. "Well, I'm fine. No worries."

Ginny took a deep breath and smiled tremulously at him. "I know, of course you are. Silly, wasn't it?"

He continued to gaze searchingly at her, his bright eyes nearly glowing in the dark room. Just as Ginny decided she would return back to her bed, he put out a hand to stop her.

"Wait. Do…do you want to get in?" He held up the edge of his blanket, and Ginny swore she could see him blushing.

She smiled at him gratefully and climbed under the warm bedcovers. She went with her instincts and snuggled close to him. Tentatively, his arms came up to wrap around her shoulders and he lay back down, taking her with him.

"What happened? In the dream?"

Ginny shuddered, remembering the blood. "Voldemort killed you. There was lots of blood. It was so real, Harry." He tightened his arms around her, and Ginny pressed her face into his hard chest. She let the sound of his steady heartbeat comfort her and found herself growing sleepy again.

She felt Harry's hand smooth down her back drawing circles over her t-shirt. She would have to wake up and be gone before Ron woke up, but for right now, she would let Harry hold her.


	13. Chapter 13 Napping Among Friends

A/N: I know! I know! You're going to think "WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM!" but I promise there's only a little bit of Cho at the end of this chapter and a little bit in the next one. Trust me, it won't last. Also, I've been combining chapters to make them longer so there are now less than 52 chapters. I realized some of them were a bit short. So hope you enjoy the longer chapters!

Chapter 13

Harry scowled all the way to the Gryffindor common room after lunch. He'd just gotten detention with that cow, Umbridge. Stupid bitch, he thought. How could she…how could the Ministry… be so blind?

In the three weeks since school had started, Harry had managed to develop an extreme dislike of Deloris Umbridge. Everyone hated her and no one trusted her, including, Harry suspected, Professor Dumbledore.

He slammed into the common room and kicked an overstuffed chair in frustration. After hopping on his uninjured foot, he collapsed in the chair, letting his bag drop to the floor.

Hermione and Ron burst into the room and stopped when they saw him sitting in front of the fire.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said sympathetically. She sat down in the chair in the next to him while Ron flopped on the couch.

"Bloody toad," Ron grumbled. "What the hell does she think is going to happen? We're going to read Voldemort to death?"

Harry snorted in spite of his frustration, but Hermione just scowled.

"What kind of professor doesn't assign practical lessons? How are we supposed to learn Defence, if we can't practice it?"

"She's got it out for you, mate," Ron said.

"No kidding," Harry muttered. "And to make this day even better, Ginny and I start our Occlumency lessons tonight with Snape."

Ron groaned in sympathy just as Ginny climbed through the portrait hole. Her face was flushed red, and her mouth was pressed into a thin line. With what could only be described as a roar, she threw the heavy book she was carrying against the stone wall, followed by her satchel. The canvas bag crashed against the wall and fell to the floor spilling its contents.

Breathing heavily, her fists clenched at her sides, Ginny turned to them and asked through gritted teeth, "Where are Fred and George?"

Ron pointed upstairs towards the seventh year boys' dormitories. Ginny stalked towards the stairs mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "Umbridge is going down" under her breath.

Harry and Ron smiled at each other. They weren't sure what Umbridge had done to tick Ginny off, but if she and the twins were going to team up, their new Defence Professor didn't stand a chance.

The situation with Umbridge was worsening daily. The Ministry was scarily supportive of her reign of terror, and her Defence Against the Dark Arts classes drug on and on as students were forced to read "Ministry-Approved" theory.

Hermione was livid about the whole thing. "Is this a school or isn't it?" she demanded. "We're not learning a bloody thing!"

Ron and Harry looked at her in shock, but she ignored them and continued her rant. Harry agreed with her wholeheartedly; except that he wasn't sure Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall could actually do anything. Their hands seemed to be tied (if a conversation he'd had with McGonagall could be believed).

The only bright spot in Umbridge's new regime was that she had inspired Fred, George and Ginny to new heights of cleverness. Once Ginny had teamed up with her brothers, Umbridge's carefully-ordered life was thrown delightfully askew. They filled her office with toads, turned her hair various shades of pink and hung Voldemort "Wanted" posters all over the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Umbridge's screech of outrage was a commonly heard sound in the halls; even the other professors were seen hiding smiles behind their hands whenever Ginny and the Weasley twins struck.

Ginny assured Harry they were working up to something big, but he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know about it or be around when it happened.

Hermione's outrage grew daily. Harry had never seen her so flustered or angry with a person in position of authority. After a particularly bad class one Friday afternoon, in which Harry had gotten another detention with Umbridge and her blood quill, Hermione decided action needed to be taken.

"We need someone else to teach us," she told Harry and Ron that evening in the common room. "Someone who knows; someone who's been there."

"But who?" Harry asked. "We can't just bring another teacher into Hogwarts."

"I'm talking about you," she answered patiently. "You're the only one who knows, Harry. You've been there; you've seen him — you can teach us."

"Me?"

"You," she said firmly.

"B-but, I can't teach!"

"She's right, Harry," Ron disagreed. "You're the only one."

"We'll form a club," Hermione decided. "We'll get other students to join and you can teach us Dark Arts Defence. It'll be a school activity; she can't take that away from us."

"Can't she?" Ron snorted. "She'll probably try."

"Then we'll meet in secret," a determined Hermione told him. "There's got to be some place in this castle that she can't find."

"Wait a minute," Harry said. "You want me to teach other people as well?! Like, a real teacher?"

"We're not the only ones who need instruction," Ron pointed out. "There's lots of half-blood and muggle-borns who need to learn how to defend themselves."

"You'll be fine, Harry," Hermione insisted. "I'll help you with lesson plans and stuff. Look," she drew out a piece of parchment and a quill, "we'll make a list of the people I've already spoken to about this and make plans to meet tomorrow in Hogsmeade to discuss things."

"You've already spoken to people about this?" Harry asked, but she didn't answer.

Harry sensed the situation was already out of his hands. Ron and Hermione hunched over the parchment and brainstormed while he sat back on the couch in defeat. It wasn't that he minded showing other people how to defend themselves…it was the questions they were likely to ask about how he'd learned such things. He'd not talked a lot about what had happened last term and wasn't really prepared to start.

The portrait opened, and a weary Ginny entered. She was wearing her school robes over her all-too-familiar workout outfit.

"Where've you been?" Harry asked.

"I went for a run," she replied, before plopping down on the couch next to him and lifting her ponytail off her still-sweaty neck.

"A run? When did you start that?"

"Since we left Grimmauld Place, actually," she said. "I don't have a muggle punching bag here."

"Oh." Harry was surprised he hadn't noticed, but then he'd been spending a lot time writing sentences in Umbridge's office. He felt bad that he hadn't thought of it before -- Ginny always said she slept better if she wore herself out physically before bed and it hadn't occurred to him that she was forced to find other means once they'd returned to Hogwarts. He had noticed that she'd been a little grumpy lately — now he knew why.

An idea occurred to him. "Hermione," he said abruptly. "You're serious about this club thing?"

She looked up from the parchment she'd been scribbling on. "Of course, Harry. Completely serious."

"Fine, then I want Ginny to be my co-teacher."

"Ginny?" Ron frowned. "Why her?"

"Um…I think I've been insulted," Ginny said mildly. "But I don't know why. What's going on? What are you talking about, Harry?"

Harry turned to her excitedly. "Hermione thinks we should have a Defence Against the Dark Arts club, you know to learn spells and stuff because Umbridge won't teach them to us. She thinks I should teach it; you'd be great too though…we should both teach it."

"Me?" Ginny said doubtfully. "Why me?"

"I think it's a great idea," Hermione spoke up. "Ginny, you know all sorts of spells and people listen to you."

"Plus, you're bloody powerful," Harry said quietly. "And you've got just as much knowledge about defending against the Dark Arts as me."

"What would I have to do?" Ginny asked slowly.

Hermione waved a hand dismissively. "Just teach us the spells that you know, help us to practice them, show us if we do something wrong…you know, the usual."

Ginny sighed and stood back up. "I'll think about it. Right now I need a shower and bed. We'll talk about it in the morning." She pecked Harry on the cheek and went upstairs.

"Think she'll do it?" asked Ron.

"Yes," Hermione said firmly. "She won't let us down."

The next day, Harry waited nervously at the Hog's Head for the people Hermione had told to meet them there.

"Thanks for doing this with me," he muttered to Ginny who was standing beside him and facing the fire.

"You've got to watch me, Harry," Ginny said seriously. "Sometimes…I can't control the power, it fluctuates; you've got to make sure I don't hurt anyone."

"Don't worry, Fury," he said reassuringly. "I'll help you." He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

They stood there holding hands, Harry facing the door while Ginny faced the fire, until the door opened and several of their classmates entered. Soon, there were twenty students in the pub. Harry dropped Ginny's hand when Cho Chang showed up and ignored the smirk Ginny sent him. He watched while she smiled brilliantly at Dean Thomas and snorted when Dean blushed. Ginny elbowed him in the ribs, and he retaliated by discreetly pinching her bum.

"Ouch!"

Harry snickered behind his hand; Hermione swung around to glare at them both.

"He pinched me," Ginny protested. "Glare at him!"

"Leave her alone, Harry," Hermione ordered. "We're about to start!"

"See what you did," Ginny hissed to him in parseltongue. "You got us in trouble with Mummy Granger."

Harry stifled a laugh and, despite the fact that Cho was there watching him, slid an arm around Ginny's shoulders to hug her briefly to his side.

Hermione introduced Harry and Ginny, and it wasn't long before students were asking about what had happened last year at the TriWizard Tournament. Harry was quickly losing his temper when some of them acted like it was some sort of game; he thought Ron was going to attack a Hufflepuff named Zacharias Smith, but Hermione managed to restrain him.

"Are there anymore questions?" Hermione asked finally standing up.

"Yes," Zacharias said in his droll, snobbish tone. "Why is she teaching us? She hasn't faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." He pointed a finger at Ginny.

"She bloody well has," George said through gritted teeth. Fred, Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement.

Ginny simply lifted her wand and shot a Stunning spell at Zacharias. The spell hit him hard enough to blow him into the nearest pub wall and break the wooden chair he'd been sitting in. She waved her wand; ropes shot out of the tip and wrapped around him from his shoulders to his feet. Only then did she revive him. He sputtered indignantly at her when she levitated him in the air, but she ignored his screams and demands to be let down. Instead, she directed him over to the wall behind the bar, said another spell and glued him to the wall. The whole thing took less than ten seconds.

Ginny put her wand away and looked back at the crowd who were staring at her in awe. "Any other questions?" she asked brightly.

Everyone shook their head, and the group began to disperse under the direction of Fred and George who both looked incredibly smug.

"Fury," Harry began conversationally, his eyes fastened on Zacharias Smith's groaning form affixed to the wall, "are you sure you won't marry me?"

She smirked at him and walked to the door, "Not this year, I'm afraid." She pulled out her wand again and waved it in Smith's direction over her shoulder before exiting the pub.

Smith crashed to the pub floor, and he groaned again, tangled up in the rope and pieces of the broken chair. Harry heaved a sigh and went over to help him up.

"You should put a leash on your cat, Potter," Smith spat at him. He dusted off his school robes angrily.

"Now what makes you think I could even do that?" asked Harry amusedly. "If I could, I wouldn't. It's a bloody turn-on when she does stuff like that."

"Turn-on?" Smith scoffed. "She's scary and unruly."

"And you don't find that to be a turn-on?" asked Harry blankly. He shook his head ruefully. "Trust me, a girl who will tie you up is infinitely more interesting."

He clapped Smith on the back and walked out with Ron and Hermione, whistling cheerily under his breath.

Harry entered his dorm room to find Ginny rummaging through his trunk. He leaned in the doorway and watched as she dug to the bottom.

"If you're looking for my Firebolt, it's in the corner," he finally said.

Ginny yelped and jumped, hitting her head on the lid of the trunk. Standing up, she rubbed the back of her head and turned to face him, a sheepish grin on her face.

"Um…sorry?"

"What are you looking for?" He stepped into the room and let his book bag drop beside his bed.

Ginny looked down and kicked the side of his truck gently. "I — oh, there it is." She pulled Harry's invisibility cloak out the trunk. "I was looking for this," she said, shaking out the fabric. "Can I borrow it?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "Do I want to know why?"

"Probably not," she said truthfully.

"Take it," he said.

"Thanks." She wadded the cloak up and shoved it in the bag by her feet.

Harry busied himself with taking his textbooks out of his bag and placing them on the nearby desk. Just when Ginny looked like she was about to leave, he blurted out, "Have any nightmares lately?" He faltered when she arched an eyebrow at him. "I-I mean, you haven't come to sleep with me lately…are they getting better?"

Since that initial night in Grimmauld Place over a month ago when Ginny had come to him shaking and trembling from a nightmare, she had gotten in the habit of crawling into his bed every time she had a dream she couldn't handle. Even after they'd returned to school, she'd been able to sneak into his dorm room at night.

Harry had been a little embarrassed that first morning when they woke up together, but since then he'd gotten kind of used to her presence. It was nice to wake up with someone who was warm and who smelled so nice. Sometimes he didn't even know she was there until he woke up and found her next to him.

It was also the idea that Ginny needed him. She was so tough with everyone else. When she came to him because of a nightmare she was vulnerable and she clung to him. It felt…good.

"They seem to come in phases," Ginny told him. "I haven't had any in a few nights."

"Oh, well, good," Harry nodded. "That's good."

"Harry," Ginny asked shrewdly. "Do you want me to have nightmares so I'll sleep with you?"

"No! Of course not."

A smirk spread across her face. "Do you," she took a step forward, "miss me, Harry?"

"Well," he smiled ruefully, "I just sleep so well when you're there. You're warm, and you smell good in the morning."

Ginny gave an uncharacteristic giggle and slid her arms around his waist to rest her head on his chest. His hands came up and rubbed her shoulders.

"You're a wonderful friend, Harry," she said, softly.

Harry kissed the top of her head and rested his chin on her hair. "We've got an hour until lunch, wanna take a nap?"

Ginny laughed and lifted her head. She shrugged a shoulder and said, "Sure, why not."

Harry whooped and let go of her. He dove for his bed and toed off his shoes so they fell to the floor with two thumps. He lay against the pillows and looked at her expectantly. Ginny laughed again and slipped off her shoes before crawling into bed next to him. She rolled onto her side, and he rolled with her, spooning behind her while he slipped an arm around her waist.

"This is nice," he sighed happily into her hair.

"You are so weird."

When Ron entered the room nearly an hour later, he stopped short at the sight of his sister and his best friend curled up together on Harry's bed. They were asleep with Harry's face buried in Ginny's hair, his arm around her waist and Ginny's hands folded underneath her cheek.

Ginny shifted and Harry stirred. He stretched and yawned, waking up Ginny who sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Good nap," Harry sighed. He sat up and froze when he saw Ron standing in the doorway.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Ron asked harshly.

Ginny jumped when she heard her brother's voice, but her momentary surprise turned quickly to controlled anger.

"Harry and I were taking a nap, Ron," she said evenly. "Is something wrong?"

"Something wrong?!" Ron stared at her agog. "I walk into my room and find you and Harry snuggling on his bed and you ask me what's wrong!"

"Ron," Harry said sharply. "We were just napping. It's not what it seems."

"Not what it seems," Ron repeated. "What else could it be?"

"Maybe it's exactly what we're saying it is," said Ginny crossly. "What do you think-"

"Fury," Harry interrupted. "Why don't you leave us alone for a minute?" He kept his eyes fastened on Ron's.

"Leave?" said Ginny hotly. "Now wait just a minute-"

"Ginny," said Harry gently, looking away from Ron to meet her eyes. "Please."

Ginny opened her mouth to object, but the look on Harry's face convinced her to leave it to him. She shut her mouth abruptly and with a glowering look at Ron, got off the bed and flounced out the door.

"Harry-" Ron began when Ginny had banged the door behind her.

"Ron-" Harry interrupted, "let me talk."

Ron closed his mouth and crossed his arms defensively in front of his chest. His face looked thunderous.

This conversation had actually been coming for some time. Harry had caught Ron giving him and Ginny odd looks now and then since the Yule Ball last year. He knew Ron had wondered about their closeness. Several times he thought Ron was going to bring it up, but he never did.

"Ginny and I are just friends," Harry said quietly. "All you saw was us taking a nap. That's it. There's nothing between us that you don't know about."

"What kinds of friends take naps together?" Ron spat. "I've been watching you two -- what kinds of friends kiss each other goodnight and touch each other like you and Ginny?!"

"The kind of friends who have nightmares and need comfort to get through the day!" Harry shot back. "And Ginny and I don't kiss. Not like that anyway." He decided not to bring up that one kiss in Grimmauld Place in front of Sirius. That had been just a joke.

"A kiss is a kiss, Harry," Ron said.

"Not with us, Ron!" Harry shouted. He took a deep breath to calm himself and continued in a quieter tone. "You don't…I wish I could make you understand-" he ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Explain it to me, Harry," said Ron sharply. "Explain to me how you and my baby sister can be as close as you are and NOT be what it looks like you are!"

"She's not a baby!" Harry exploded. "She's more mature than any of us! She's been through things, Ron, things you would never understand. Sometimes I'm not even sure I do!"

Harry kicked the side of his desk and sat down angrily in the nearby desk chair. He was so sick of Ron acting like Ginny was his annoying little sister. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

"Do you know what Ginny fears most in this world?" he asked, staring at the floor.

Ron shrugged. "Tom Riddle? The Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry shook his head, his gaze fixed on the worn toe of his sneaker. "No. She told me once the only thing she feared was a cage. At first I thought it meant that she didn't want to be left out of things, you know, left behind-"

"Makes sense," Ron nodded.

"But now that I know her better I think it means something more than that," he continued. "I think it means that she doesn't want to be locked away while others take care of things when she can take care of herself; to be told that she's too young. I think she fears not being recognized as a capable witch. She knows she can do it, and she's afraid people won't let her because she was possessed by Voldemort or because she's their youngest daughter…or their little sister."

"Voldemort possessed her," he said, staring at the floor. "I can't even imagine what she went through that year. You don't know, Ron. I'm not sure I do really; she won't tell me everything that happened between them. But it changed her. And she's…well, she's different."

It was a weak argument and did nothing to explain what he was trying to say or the relationship between Ginny and himself. He just didn't know how else to describe the change in Ginny. He wasn't sure Ron had paid attention enough to notice.

"I know my sister is different," Ron said quietly. "What I want to know is why she lets YOU in and not the rest of us."

It was an astute observation and it surprised Harry. He'd asked himself the same thing many times.

"I'm not completely sure," Harry said, looking Ron in the eye. "But we've a connection of sorts to each other and to Voldemort. What happened in the past, in the Chamber, it brought us together. We understand each other. I can't explain it better than that."

"But the kissing," Ron said, "and the hand holding? And the nap? What about that?"

Harry held out his hands in supplication. "We just…need the human contact, Ron. I don't know how to explain it. Just know that it just means we're friends, nothing more. And we don't kiss, not really anyway — it's more of a comfort."

"I just," he faltered and looked back at the floor. "I just need her. I don't know what else I can say."

Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you have feelings for her?"

Harry hesitated. "Feelings? Well…she's my best friend certainly. I feel…very deeply for her."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Never mind."

"Ron," said Harry intently. "I would never hurt her."

Ron studied him for a moment, and Harry willed his friend to see his sincerity. Finally Ron nodded. "All right. I trust you. Just make sure that you don't."

"Let me curse him," Harry pleaded. "Please."

Ginny shot an amused glance at him. "No."

"C'mon Gin, just one hex," Harry begged. "He's a complete git. He deserves it."

"That's not the point," Ginny said firmly. "If you hex him, you'll get in trouble. He's not worth it."

Harry scowled at her and shoved a potato in his mouth. Ginny suppressed a laugh. Harry had been bugging her to let him curse Draco Malfoy since breakfast this morning when Malfoy had verbally attacked her outside the Great Hall. It wasn't that Malfoy didn't deserve to be hexed, he did. But Ginny wanted to be the one to do it.

The whole thing had been rather odd. Ginny, who had not been watching where she was going, had been taken aback when Malfoy brushed up against her rather rudely on his way out of the room.

"Careful, little Weasley," he'd said nastily. "Don't want to be caught off your guard."

She'd just looked at him confused, and then Harry had shown up and the whole thing had gone to pot. Malfoy had been very clearly threatening her, but for what reason Ginny was unsure.

"Promise me you aren't going to let him get to you," she said sternly to Harry. "He's just trying to get a rise out of you."

Harry grumbled and shoved his potatoes around on his plate.

"Promise me, Harry," Ginny insisted.

He heaved a great sigh and said, "Promise."

"Swear it."

"I swear it," he snapped. "Now stop-"

"Hold up your right hand and repeat after me."

"Ginny, this is ridiculous," Harry scowled at her but he held up his right hand.

"I, Harry Potter."

"I, Harry Potter," he grumbled.

"Boy-Who-Lived and owner of the best arse at Hogwarts-"

Harry glared at her, but she glared right back. "Say it."

He repeated the phrase half-heartedly, but Ginny thought she saw a twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"Do solemnly swear to not hex Draco Malfoy in retaliation-"

"Do solemnly swear to not hex Draco Malfoy in retaliation-"

"For his offendage against Ginny Weasley-"

"Offendage? Is that a word?"

"Yes, now say it."

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron and Hermione who had just joined them at the table and repeated the sentence.

"Who is better and badder than me and is quite capable of kicking Malfoy's arse herself."

Harry finished the words and took a sip of pumpkin juice. "Happy now?" he asked Ginny.

"Immensely."

"What on earth is going on here?" Hermione asked.

Harry scowled again. "Malfoy."

Ron groaned. "What did he do this time?"

Harry nodded towards Ginny. "Ask her."

"Nothing, Ron," Ginny said dismissively. "Just the same old story. I'm a blood traitor and a poor excuse for a pureblood, blah, blah, blah."

Ron stuck out his hand for her to shake. "Hi, I'm a filthy muggle-lover and poor as dirt. Nice to meet you."

Ginny shook his hand solemnly while those sitting near them erupted in laughter. Even Harry eventually smile, and Ginny hoped he would drop his quest to protect her from big, bad Draco Malfoy. She chuckled quietly to herself. Like she couldn't handle Draco Malfoy.

Ginny walked to her next class with Colin, a strange tingling sensation in the back of her neck. It was a prickling feeling. Someone was watching her. She spun around, but didn't see anything unusual.

"Ginny?" asked Colin concernedly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, shaking it off. She entered Transfiguration, confused and watchful.

Over the course of the next several weeks, Ginny had the same prickling feeling. She started to notice a pattern. The prickling feeling only happened during meals in Great Hall and in the hallway on her way to Transfiguration, Potions and Ancient Runes. Mentally, she started cataloguing the people around her during these times. Someone was watching her — she knew it. But which of them?

She entered the common room late one night after serving detention with Professor McGonagall for being late to class. Someone had been watching her on the way back from McGonagall's office, and it had spooked her. Ginny wasn't the type to get spooked very easily.

Harry hissed at her in parseltongue to join him by the fireplace. Frowning and lost in thought, Ginny joined him on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her.

"What is it?" he asked, flipping a page in the book on his lap.

"Nothing," she said flippantly. "It's just…"

Harry looked at her expectantly, and she continued slowly, "I think someone is stalking me."

"Stalking you?" he repeated. "What do you mean?"

Ginny told him how everywhere she went she felt someone watching her, and how she'd heard footsteps on the way back from detention tonight.

"The thing is," she finished, "I've been keeping track. Of all people who are consistently around when I get that weird feeling, Draco Malfoy is the only one who seems capable of such a thing. But why would Draco Malfoy be stalking me?"

"There was that incident a few weeks ago at breakfast," Harry reminded her. "Maybe he's just got it out for you."

"If he wanted to make my life miserable, he could be a bit more public about it," she said reasonably. "There's no need to stalk me."

"I don't know, Gin," Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows what goes through Malfoy's mind?"

"I don't think I really want to know," she commented.

Several days later, Ron and Hermione entered the common room to find an angry Harry and Ginny glaring at each other in the centre of the room. Interested Gryffindors were watching them with curiosity, but the two friends were oblivious. Harry was facing Ginny, his fists clenched; Ginny was standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest, a familiar defiant look on her upturned face.

"You can't just go wandering around at night by yourself," Harry spat. "He's stalking you, Ginny."

"And how would you know?" she replied in a deceivingly casual tone.

"I've been keeping an eye out, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I've been watching him. He's definitely stalking you."

"I thought we agreed that I could take care of myself," Ginny said in a dangerous voice.

"It's Malfoy," Harry thundered. "He's probably already a Death Eater. You can't know what he's capable of."

"Oh but you do?" she retorted. "I'm so grateful, Harry, that you're here to warn me of my naiveté. Whatever would I do without you? How on earth would I defend myself?"

"Ginny," he insisted, ignoring her sarcasm, "You have to tell Dumbledore, you can't let him get away with this."

"Fine," she smiled evilly at him. "I'll go tell Dumbledore about Malfoy when you tell him about that blood quill Umbridge has been using on you in detentions."

Harry looked down at his fist in surprise. The words he'd etched into his skin, "I Must Not Tell Lies" were pink and raw. He looked back at her, his face hard.

"You know why I can't do that," he said quietly. "If I do that, she wins."

"Well, if I go running to the Headmaster, Malfoy wins," Ginny shot back. "I'm not doing it."

They glared at each other again. Harry's jaw worked furiously; Ginny's expression was rebellious.

"What's going on?" Ron finally found his voice.

Harry looked at him, surprised to find both of them standing there. A look of triumph came over his face.

"Ron! Tell her she has to go to Dumbledore! Malfoy's been stalking her for weeks!"

"Stalking you?" Hermoine asked, frowning. "What on earth for?"

Ginny shrugged. "He thinks if he can bring me before Voldemort, he'll win favour with his so-called 'Dark Lord.'"

Harry and Ron's heads snapped around so hard to stare at her, the occupants of the room imagined they could hear their necks pop.

"What. Did. You. Say?" Harry asked in a low, dangerous tone.

She looked at him exasperatedly. "Harry, you must have known that. Why else would he be after me?"

"How," Ron cleared his throat, "how do you know this?"

She gave a laugh of disbelief. "What did you all think? That Voldemort, that Tom Riddle, would just ignore me? After I escaped him in the Chamber? After I thwarted him for a whole year? He wants me. He always has. Malfoy knows it, all the Death Eaters do. S'not like he's made a secret of it."

"HOW," Harry thundered at her, "do you know this?"

Ginny just looked at him and Harry suddenly knew. She'd said before that Tom Riddle sometimes spoke to her; whispered to her in her mind. He would have told her such a thing; he would have taunted her and teased her with it, hoping to scare her into submission.

Hermione reached out a shaky hand and laced her fingers with Ron. "What -- what do we do?"

"We watch Ginny like a hawk," Ron said immediately. "Malfoy isn't going to get her."

Harry ignored them both and reached out with one hand to grab the front of Ginny's jumper in his fist. He bunched the material together and pulled her smaller frame towards him, until her feet were almost off the ground and their foreheads were touching.

He looked into her eyes. "I don't know how I can make this any more clear," he said in a deadly voice. "But he will not get you. I won't let him. I promise."

Ginny smiled and closed her eyes, leaning into him, her hands braced on his chest. "You can't protect me every minute, Harry. You have to trust me to take care of myself."

"We'll get Dumbledore to make you some sort of emergency Portkey," Hermione suggested. "You'll be able to use it if something happens."

"And we're going to be watching Malfoy," Ron said. "When Fred and George hear about this, Malfoy is going to wish he'd never thought of my sister as some sort of prize." He grinned wickedly and for just a moment he looked more like his twin brothers than Harry ever thought possible.

"Yeah," he said, looking back at Ginny, their foreheads still pressed together. "We'll do all of those things." He shook her a little with the fist he'd made in her clothing. "Promise me you'll be safe."

"I'll try," she said promptly. Her fingers curled into his shoulders.

"And you'll keep your wand with you at all times?"

"Of course," she said, sounding offended.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay. Then…I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"I'm not sorry I yelled back," she said. "You're acting like an over-protective brother and I've already got enough of those, thanks."

Harry let go of her jumper, only to grip her on either side of her waist. He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His arms slid underneath her bum to support her, and he began walking to the staircase.

"I'm not your brother," he growled at her.

She laughed and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked, disgusted at the spectacle of his sister wrapped around his best friend.

"Nap," Harry said, his voice muffled in Ginny's hair. "I need a nap."

"Does Ginny need a nap?" Hermione sounded amused.

"Doesn't look like I have much of a choice." Came the reply.

"Ron," Harry called out just as turned the corner to carry Ginny up to their room. "We flying later?"

"Sure, mate," Ron yelled back. "Just as soon as you get done with your…nap." There were a few sniggers in the common room and Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione.

"I wish they'd just snog and get it over with," he grumbled.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not sure they're ready for it yet."

"Not ready for it?" Ron asked in disbelief. "They take naps together for bloody sake!"

"Still," she said thoughtfully. "They're not ready to admit to it yet. What's between them is already intense enough. Can you imagine what it'll be like once they start dating?"

Ron shuddered. "I don't want to think about that at all." He kissed her quickly on the lips. "I've got to find Fred and George."

As it turned out, Ron and Harry's fears were waylaid by Ginny herself. Tired of him following her one evening, Ginny hid around a corner and hexed Malfoy with a series of spells that left him knocked out for the rest of the night. He got detention for being late to class the next morning and couldn't sit down for three days due to the boils she'd hexed on his bum.

If that wasn't enough, Fred and George made his life a living hell. Every time Malfoy turned around he was being changed into a canary, breaking into purple polka-dots or suffering some other calamity at the hands of the Weasley twins. He grew shaky and started violently any time Fred, George or Ginny came near him.

Harry was forced to admit that Ginny had been right; she could take care of herself. But the idea that Voldemort wanted her still haunted him at night. It had been horrible enough when he was just using her to lure Harry to him; it was quite another for him to be after her alone.

Harry's nightly dreams were still being plagued with visions of a long corridor leading to a door. They left his heart pounding and his head aching. As if all this wasn't enough, things with Professor Umbridge were only getting worse. By mid-November, Harry was in a constant bad mood. He snapped at everyone, including Ron and Hermione, who did not deserve it, and at Ginny, who fought back. Many conversations with her ended in raging fights in the common room although they usually wound up fighting about the same thing: Ginny didn't like Harry's attitude and Harry didn't care.

He often wished Ginny would be a little more understanding like Ron and Hermione, but then he had a startling epiphany -- he enjoyed fighting with her. They were both suffering he realized one morning after Ginny had come to breakfast with dark circles under her eyes, and yelling at each other released some of the anger.

Harry's anger exploded in a big way after December's Quidditch game when Draco Malfoy dared to insult Molly Weasley. Harry and George both attacked him, not even caring that teachers were nearby; he'd had quite enough of Draco sodding Malfoy and it felt incredibly good to hit him.

It wasn't until later when Umbridge told Harry, Fred and George they were all banned from Quidditch that he regretted the action. Even then it was only because Angelina was so upset about having to rebuild her team; he still wasn't sorry he'd broken the git's nose.

When Angelina informed him before a meeting of the D.A. one evening that she'd replaced him with Ginny, he didn't know what to think. He'd seen Ginny fly and knew she'd be a good Seeker; but it felt like it was his position. He was, quite frankly, jealous.

Ginny must have been able to sense his discomfort because she stayed behind the D.A. practice that evening.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked bluntly, once everyone else had gone.

He shrugged. "Not really. I'm just…"

"Jealous?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry." She leaned against the closed door.

"Don't be. You'll be brilliant. I mean it," he said sincerely.

She grinned impishly at him. "I'm sorry you won't get to fly against Cho, though. Any excuse to touch her, right, Harry?"

"Shut it," he said fondly.

"Umbridge can't ban you for life you know," she said encouragingly. "Someone, somewhere has to stop her."

He tilted his head. "I thought you were the one who was going to stop her."

"I may have some people working on it," she said mysteriously.

He snorted. "Fred and George you mean. They're bad enough by themselves but when they team up with you, they're downright scary…and possibly criminal."

"Everyone has to have a skill," she said demurely.

Harry smiled broadly then and threw an arm around her shoulders. "C'mon, Fury. I'll walk you back."

They walked out of the Room of Requirement arm in arm, laughing and teasing each other. They'd just reached the corner of the corridor when Harry heard a soft, "Harry?" from behind them.

He turned around to see Cho walking towards them, an envelope in her hand.

"Um…hi!" Harry swallowed nervously. Ginny snickered behind her hand and Harry elbowed her in the ribs.

Cho ignored Ginny and focused big, brown eyes on Harry. "I wondered if you would do me a favour."

"S-sure," Harry said quickly. "Anything."

Ginny bit her lip to keep from laughing and Harry stepped on her toes. She cursed at him lightly in parseltongue, causing Cho to look at her strangely.

"Well," Cho said, tearing her gaze away from Ginny's innocent-looking face, "I wonder if I might borrow Hedwig." She held up the envelope she was carrying. "I've got to send a letter to my mother and I don't want to use the school owls."

"Oh! Well, normally I would," Harry answered. He hastened to add, "But Hedwig got hurt last week. It was her wing. Hagrid says she won't be up to flying again for another week."

"Oh," Cho's face fell. "I can't wait that long."

"You could use Pig," Ginny butted in. "But he's a bit excitable sometimes. He might get easily caught."

"Who's Pig?"

"My brother's owl," Ginny grinned. "I named him. Like it?"

"It's original," Cho commented. "Are you sure he wouldn't mind?"

"Nah," Ginny waved her hand dismissively. "I'll tell him, he won't care."

"Well, thank you," Cho said. "I've put a charm on the paper but you just never know…"

"I can't guarantee anything with Pig," Ginny warned. "But he's probably better than a school owl." She turned to Harry. "Harry, why don't you take her to the Owlery and help her? She doesn't know what he looks like."

"Well, sure…" Harry stammered and then looked at Cho. "If you like."

Cho smiled brilliantly at him and he felt that funny swoop in his stomach that he often got when she looked at him. He took a step away from Ginny and then thought of her walking back to the common room alone.

"But wait," he frowned down at Ginny. "What about you? You can't go walking alone — what if Malfoy's about?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and shoved him away a few more steps. "Haven't I proven that I can take care of myself, Harry?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"And haven't I been walking back to the common room by myself since I was eleven years old?"

"Yes, but that's not the-"

"Harry! Do I have to make you take the pledge again?" Ginny threatened.

He shuddered. No, he definitely didn't want to have to take that ridiculous pledge in front of Cho. She was sure to think he was silly.

"Oh fine," he sighed. "But here," he reached into his bag and pulled out the invisibility cloak that he'd gotten in the habit of carrying with him, "use this."

"Thanks," Ginny said, and she took the cloak.

"See you later, Fury," Harry kissed her quickly on the cheek and whispered in her ear in parseltongue, "Don't wait up."

Ginny made a disgusted face at him and threw the cloak over her. Once he was sure she was covered, Harry turned back to Cho and smiled. "Ready?"

She nodded, and they fell into step beside each other. Harry found himself without anything to say to her until Cho finally broke the awkward silence with: "Good practice tonight."

He nodded. "Yeah, everyone is getting really good. Even Neville."

Cho laughed a little at that and then changed the subject abruptly. "Are you dating Ginny Weasley?"

Harry stopped walking to stare at her. "No. Why would you ask that?"

Cho stopped too. "You kissed her goodbye just now. And you two seem…really close."

"It was just a peck on the cheek!" Harry said, a little too defensively. He'd kissed Ginny goodbye without even thinking about it; he'd completely forgotten that Cho had been watching.

"Do you…peck her on the cheek often?"

"Well, I -- that's not the point," Harry said impatiently. "Look, we are really close, Ginny and I. But it's because we're best friends. We're not dating."

"Oh," Cho said and resumed walking. "That's good to know."

"Really?"

She looked back at him over her shoulder and smiled. "Really."


	14. Chapter 14 Admitting

Chapter 14

Nobody who was at the D.A. practice the next week knew exactly what had ticked Ginny Weasley off, but they wished whoever it was would learn to keep their mouth shut.

Ginny was a terror. She patrolled the students working on their Patronuses with a vengeance, sniping at anyone and everyone until Harry finally pulled her aside and asked the Room of Requirement for a separate room and a muggle punching bag like they'd used at Grimmauld Place.

When she glared at him, he said, "It's either this or we fight about something, Fury, and I've not got time to pick a fight with you." He waved his wand, and she was dressed in the outfit that had made him drool so much over the summer. He left her alone then, and shut the door behind him, trying not to think about the way the stretchy pants came only halfway up her hipbones.

Several people looked at him in relief when he turned back to the room, and he grinned at them before directing them to work on their Patronuses. Ginny stayed in the room until the end of practice and when she came out, she looked considerably better -- tired and sweaty -- but better. She walked over to Harry, ignoring the blatant looks of admiration she was getting and waited for him to change her clothes back into the ones she'd been wearing earlier.

Harry scowled at the guys staring at Ginny and waved his wand again so that she was fully clothed once more.

"Thanks, Harry," she said gratefully. "I owe you."

"What was bothering you?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged. "The usual. I'm sorry I was such a bitch."

"Really? You were?" he asked innocently. "I didn't notice much of a difference."

He laughed when she kicked him in the shin before going off with Luna Lovegood and Colin. Harry turned back to the room and jumped, startled to find Cho waiting for him…

Harry walked back to the common room in a daze. He'd only ever had one real kiss before and that had been in Buckbeak's room with Ginny this past summer. On a scale of one to ten, as far as kisses went, the kiss with Ginny had been a seventeen; so it was hardly fair to compare it to the kiss he'd just shared with Cho. Still, it had been a very nice kiss — even if she had been crying.

Harry had gotten rather used to the quick, affectionate pecks he and Ginny often shared before bed, or after a nightmare; he'd even taken to bestowing the occasional peck on Hermione's cheek — something which made her smile brilliantly. So it was quite a pleasant shock to participate in a full-on snog.

He entered the common room to find Ron, Hermione and Ginny talking by the fireplace. Ron took one look at his face and grinned.

"How was it, mate?"

"Wet," Harry said truthfully. "She was crying."

Ginny and Ron sniggered, and Hermione hid her smile behind her hand. Harry collapsed on the floor next to Ginny, and she bumped his shoulder with hers.

"Better than me?" Ginny teased.

Harry just looked at her. "Not hardly, Weasley," he said, entirely serious.

"What!" Ron's face turned red.

Ginny laughed. "It was just a joke, Ron!" She grinned wickedly at Harry. "Should I kiss you again so you can fully compare?"

Harry grinned back. "Okay." He leaned forward just to see if she would. Ginny hesitated, seriously considering the idea, before pulling back regretfully.

"Sorry, Potter. I can't do it when you've just had your lips on Cho bloody Chang's."

"Do you not like Cho?" asked Harry, surprised.

"Oh!" Ginny said, flushing a little. "Well, it's not that I don't like her. It's just that she's…oh come on, she was crying when you kissed her, Harry!"

"She's a human hosepipe," Hermione said bluntly. "Not that she doesn't have a reason to be upset, her boyfriend was killed by Voldemort; but she's been crying everywhere. To anyone who will listen."

"Something like that takes a lot of time to get over," said Harry defensively.

"Voldemort killed my boyfriend," Ginny said bluntly. "You don't see me blubbering all over the place."

"Cho really cared about Cedric," Harry said quietly. "It was different."

"Are you saying I didn't care about Michael?" Ginny asked dangerously.

"No," Harry said carefully. "But you've said yourself; you weren't in love with him. I think Cho really loved Cedric. I'm sure it's very hard for her."

"Doesn't make it less devastating," Ginny said, looking away. "At least it wasn't Cho's fault that Cedric died." She stood up and brushed off the seat of her pants. "I'm off to bed. See you lot in the morning."

Harry watched her go; he could have kicked himself. He knew all too well how much Ginny had suffered and blamed herself for Michael's death.

"What'd you have to say that for, mate?" Ron sounded angry.

"I think you hurt her feelings, Harry, " Hermione added quietly.

"I know," Harry said dully. "I didn't mean to. It just came out before I realized how it sounded."

"Did you really kiss Ginny?" asked Ron curiously.

Harry smiled and kept his face averted from Ron's probing gaze. The memory of the kiss they'd shared in front of Sirius still made his insides swoop. The taste of her, the feel of Ginny's tiny waist and hips underneath his hands; if Sirius hadn't been watching, Harry would have-

"Harry!" Ron shouted, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Oh, sorry," he said distractedly. "What did you ask me?"

"Never mind," Ron rolled his eyes. "Blimey, you are blinder than a bat sometimes."

Harry looked at his friend confused, but Ron just heaved a sigh and stood up. "I'm going to bed, you coming?"

"Sure." Harry got off the floor and went upstairs first so Ron and Hermione could have enough privacy to say goodnight.

He changed into his pyjamas and crawled into bed. He fell asleep quickly; disturbing dreams of Cho and Ginny morphing into one person took the place of his nightmares, and he slept relatively peacefully until he awoke suddenly at 4 a.m. to find Ginny shaking him.

"What is it?" he whispered. "Are you okay?" Her face was wet, but he couldn't tell if it was from tears or sweat. She shook her head miserably, and he scooted over to make room for her.

Ginny crawled into his bed and lay on her stomach, one hand curled into a fist underneath her cheek, her face turned away from him. Harry sat up and leaned over her, one hand rubbing small circles on her back.

"Bad dream?"

She nodded and sniffled, and he moved closer to her, shifting his weight so that he was stretched out along her side. He smoothed back the hair from her face and neck and rested his forehead on the side of her face.

"I'm sorry, Fury," he whispered. "I shouldn't have said that about Michael. I didn't mean it."

"Yes you did," she replied softly. "But it's okay. You didn't say anything that wasn't true. I didn't love him, and I shouldn't be so hard on Cho."

Harry didn't have a reply for that so he rested his head on her pillow and hugged her from behind, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her into the shelter of his body.

"Do you want to talk about the dream?"

"No," she said quietly. "Just hold me."

"Always."

They were silent for a long time. Harry thought she might have been asleep, but then she said, "I was jealous."

He lifted his head off the pillow to look down at her profile. "Jealous? Of what?"

"Of Cho," she said shakily. "That's why I teased you about her. I'm used to having you all to myself."

"Ginny…" Once again, Harry didn't have a response for that. Part of him felt rather smug at Ginny's jealousy; it was gratifying to know that she needed him as much as he needed her. He really wanted to tell her that she already had more of him than Cho Chang ever could; but he didn't know how to say such a thing.

Instead he hugged her tighter to him and buried a nose in her sweet-smelling hair. "I will always, always be here for you, Fury," he said hoarsely. "Me being with Cho isn't going to change that. Did you really think it would?"

"The rational side of my brain knows that," she admitted, "but what happens when she gets jealous? When she finds out I sometimes sleep in your bed?"

"Well, that will probably bother her," he conceded. "But if she can't understand me and my friends, then she's not worth it."

"What if she makes you choose?" she asked in a small voice. She was afraid of the answer.

Harry couldn't believe she didn't already know the answer to that question. "I would choose you," he said without hesitation. "How could you think otherwise?"

Ginny shrugged. "If she's your girlfriend, you owe her something."

"I'm not going to be with someone who makes me choose between her and my friends," Harry said decisively. "You're my best friend, Gin. I'm not going to abandon you just because Cho asks me to."

Ginny rolled over to face him and smiled. "Thanks." She snuggled face first into his chest. Her eyes still swam with unshed tears; Ginny hardly ever allowed herself to fully cry after a nightmare.

Harry smoothed a hand down her spine. "What about you? Are you going to give me up if Dean ever makes a move?"

She lifted her head and touched her lips to his before yawning and laying her head back down on his chest. "Not a chance, Potter."

Harry slithered down the darkened hallway, his eyes fixed on the snoring man at the end of the corridor. He'd never felt so powerful before; his lithe, strong body moved silently and gracefully. He'd also never been this close to the ground before, and he was amazed at the depth of his perception.

He focused sharp eyes on the man again. A fierce desire for blood rose up in him, and he lunged forward, anxious to sink his teeth into human flesh.

With a wrenching gasp, Harry sat up in bed back at Hogwarts. He'd been dreaming again, but it had been so real this time, almost too real. He'd…he'd been a snake and he'd been about to bite-

Harry gasped again and with a muttered curse, scrambled to get out of bed. His feet tangled in the covers, and he shouted for Ron.

"Ron! Ron! Wake up!" Mumbling expletives, Harry struggled with the bedclothes. "Get up! We've got to go to Dumbledore!"

Harry finally freed himself and ran over to Ron who was only stirring at Harry's shouting. "Wake up!" he yelled, shaking his friend by the shoulder.

"Harry?" Neville poked his head out of the coverings surrounding his bed. "Whatsamatter?"

"Go get McGonagall," Harry ordered him. "Please. And quickly." He turned back to Ron while Neville, his eyes widening at the urgent tone in Harry's voice, scrambled out of bed and took off down the stairs.

"Harry?" Ron mumbled sleepily. "What's going on?"

"It's your dad," he replied quickly. "I - I think he's been bitten by a snake."

Ron just looked up at him in confusion. "What do you mean? He's at home, isn't he?"

"I don't think so," Harry said impatiently. "C'mon, get out of bed and get dressed. We've got to go see Dumbledore."

Ron sprang out of bed and grabbed his clothes just as Professor McGonagall burst into the room.

"Professor," Harry said quickly, before she could ask what was going on. "We've got to go to Dumbledore. I think Arthur Weasley has been hurt. I swear it."

"Why on earth would you-" she broke off, her eyes widening in recognition. She shot a quick glance at Neville, Dean and Seamus who were standing by sleepily.

"Let's go then," she barked at Harry and Ron. "Quickly. Neville, go wake Fred and George Weasley and send them to the Headmaster's office."

"What about Ginny?" Ron hollered as they followed McGonagall down the staircase.

"I'll come back and wake her once I've seen you to the Headmaster," she replied. "Now, hurry."

The three of them sped to the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle sprang aside before they could even utter the password, and they rushed up the steps. Dumbledore opened the door before they knocked on it.

"What is it?" he asked harshly. "What's happened?"

Harry gasped out the story while McGonagall rushed back to Gryffindor Tower for Ginny. Fred and George soon arrived looking bewildered and sleepy and the four of them watched while Dumbledore spoke to some of the portraits on the wall and urged them to find Arthur Weasley. Ginny and Hermione soon arrived and were in time to hear a serious Dumbledore explain that Mr. Weasley had been bitten by what appeared to be a large snake while guarding something at the Ministry of Magic. He'd been taken to St. Mungo's where he was currently fighting for his life.

Before Harry or anyone else could comprehend what was happening, the six of them had been sent to Grimmauld Place on a Portkey. They were met by a grave Sirius who did his best to cheer them up, but who failed miserably. Eventually, they wound up sitting around the kitchen; waiting for word from Mrs. Weasley.

The fireplace in the kitchen finally flared green, and an exhausted looking Mrs. Weasley stumbled out. Her children swarmed her, hugging her and exclaiming over her; Hermione, Harry and Sirius stood uncomfortably on the sidelines, aware they were intruding on a family moment.

Mrs. Weasley broke away with a tired smile, and then moved to hug Harry, Hermione and finally, Sirius. She pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose quietly. Ginny moved to the stove to make her mother some tea.

"He's going to be fine," she told them. "They managed to stop the bleeding mostly and get the poison out. He's going to be sore for a while, and they can't heal the wounds using magic. The healers are doing some research to see what else they can do. They've never seen this type of snake bite before, and nothing they tried worked very well until Professor Snape suggested a certain potion." She smiled at them through the tears and exhaustion on her face. "But he's going to be fine."

She took the tea Ginny offered her gratefully. "I'm going to go back and spend the night with him," she continued. "But I wanted to make sure you were all right here. Thank you for watching after them," she said to Sirius. "Would you mind-?"

"No, no, of course not," Sirius said in a fake jovial voice. "Go back to the hospital, Molly. We'll be fine."

Mrs. Weasley finished her tea and gave another round of hugs and kisses before Flooing back to St. Mungo's. Fred and George looked at each other, yawned and headed for bed. Hermione and Ron soon followed and Sirius was left with Harry and Ginny.

"I'm going to go to bed, pups," he told them. "Are you coming?"

Ginny shook her head without looking up. "I don't think I could sleep."

"Me either," Harry said. "I'm going to stay up a while."

"Right then; don't stay up too late," Sirius said. He kissed the top of Ginny's head and ruffled Harry's hair before heading up the stairs.

Ginny and Harry sat in silence for several moments. The adrenaline of the past few hours began to catch up with Harry, and he suddenly felt like throwing something, or screaming, or crying, or maybe all three.

"You think if I drink enough of these, I could get drunk?" Ginny tossed back a swig of Butterbeer and wiped the back of her mouth with her hand.

"Dunno," Harry said. "Should we try?"

"Can't sleep," she shrugged. "Why not?"

They drank in silence. When Harry emptied his bottle, Ginny got up and retrieved two more. She plunked the glass bottle on the table in front of him and said, "It's been a shitty year, hasn't it?"

"Cheers to that," Harry said. He lifted his bottle and tapped it against Ginny's.

"We've both got a psychopath after us, Dumbledore thinks Voldemort might be using us to spy on our friends and family, you've got a life-sized toad who thinks you might be the next Dark Lord, I've got a ferret after me who thinks he's Merlin's gift to the Dark Arts, and now, a giant snake has attacked my dad who was guarding something at the Ministry that Voldemort wants desperately enough to kill for."

"Don't forget the part where, thanks to this scar, I dreamt I was the snake that bit your dad. But yeah, that about sums it up."

"And its bloody Christmas," Ginny said glumly. She took another swig of Butterbeer.

"Happy Christmas," Harry said.

Ginny ran her fingers through her hair in agitation. "I feel like things are spiralling out of control, Harry. How did we get here? Why us?"

The seriousness and panic in her voice made him lift his head and look at her. "I don't know. But I'm pretty sure it's not our fault."

"Doesn't make me feel better," she grumped at him. "I'm 14 years old for Merlin's sake. I'm supposed to be worrying about boys and hair. Not people trying to kill me."

Harry fiddled with the Butterbeer cap, spinning it like a top. "Happily ever after is overrated anyway," he told her. His eyes watched the circles the cap made as it spun on the table.

Ginny took another swig of Butterbeer and studied Harry through slitted eyes. She wondered if he wanted to forget the world as much as she did right now. Her dad might be dying and Tom Riddle was probably going to kill her before she reached eighteen. Not much of a chance for fun left.

"You know what the worse part is?" she asked suddenly.

"What?" Harry took another swallow.

"You and I — we train to fight, we train others, and we're the best, yeah? We fight to make things better, so that we can have a chance at a normal life. And at any moment, Voldemort could discover where we are, swoop in here and kill us with two little words."

Harry gave small, but bitter laugh. "You're right."

"I mean, no matter how prepared we are, we can't go up against Voldemort. He's VOLDEMORT. He didn't get to be the Dark Lord because the Death Eaters took a vote and said, 'oh well, he looks the scariest.' No, he got there because he's a bloody powerful wizard."

"What are you trying to say, Ginny?" He lifted his bottle again.

Ginny put down her empty Butterbeer bottle and took her legs off his lap where she'd propped them. She sat up straight in her chair and leaned forward. "I'm saying that the chances of us making it out of this alive are slim, Harry. I mean, let's just be honest with ourselves. Every second we're alive, we're cheating death."

"I think that's putting it a bit morbidly," Harry said, "but you're essentially right. Every second is important."

"So we should make the most of each moment, don't you think?"

As Harry wiped his mouth he noticed a hard, blazing look on Ginny's face. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

Ginny decided to go for broke. For one just moment, she wanted to know what it felt like to drown herself in sensations that she'd convinced herself she wasn't yearning for. So she stood up, bent over Harry and pressed her lips against his. Hard. He tensed underneath her momentarily, and then, perhaps realising this was NOT one of their friendly, comfort kisses, pressed back. Hard. He lifted a hand to the back of her head and took control of the kiss, his lips moving against hers, his other hand seeking her waist.

Without breaking contact and without thinking about the fact that she was kissing her best friend, Ginny twisted her body so that she could lift her leg over Harry and straddle his thighs. Part of her was a little surprised at his enthusiastic response; she ignored the part that wasn't. Harry's hands gripped her hips, and he tugged her closer. When her breasts hit his chest, she gasped at the sensation, and he took the advantage to slip his tongue into her open mouth.

Harry made an odd groaning noise in the back of his throat while his tongue stroked Ginny's, and she whimpered when his hands slid down her hips. The rhythmic squeezing of her thighs mimicked the motions of his tongue, and Ginny moaned when his hands slid back up to her waist. She titled her head and slanted her mouth over his, pressing closer while her hands moved into his hair. She pulled his head back, breaking the kiss and slid her mouth over his jaw and down to his neck. She fastened her mouth onto the skin of his neck, sucking it between her teeth until Harry hissed from the pleasure-pain of it.

"Ginny," he gasped, "Gods…" His fingers dug into her hips and with a sudden jerking movement, he grasped her by waist and lifted her off his lap and onto the table. Her bum rested on the very edge and Harry quickly stood up. He swept an arm over the tabletop behind her, sending their empty Butterbeer bottles to the floor. Ginny giggled, but he effectively silenced her by kissing her again. Her hands came up to cup the sides of his face, and he slowly lowered her onto her back. His mouth moved to her neck and across her collarbone and Ginny suddenly felt like he wasn't going fast enough. She whimpered again.

"More?" he asked her, his tongue tracing the hollow of her throat.

"More" she panted, tugging his shirt at his waistband. "Faster."

He lifted himself over her again, and she pressed urgent, almost frantic kisses wherever she could reach: his chin, his jaw, his neck, his ear, his lips. Her thighs came up to cradle his waist and she lifted her hips to rub against him.

When Ginny rubbed herself against his nearly painful arousal, Harry decided it was time to slow things down. He'd wanted to touch Ginny, to kiss her, to acknowledge the attraction between them for over a year and he wanted to savour every moment of this experience.

"Ginny, wait, slow down," he panted. She silenced him with a hard bruising kiss, and he groaned against her mouth as his hips jerked against her involuntarily.

"Ginny…hang on…Ginny…oh gods, that feels…no, wait…Ginny! Ginny, stop!" Harry pulled forcibly away from her seeking hands and mouth and held himself over her, his weight on his arms, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

"What? What's the matter with you?" she asked irritably, looking up at him. Her lips were swollen from his kisses and her hair was falling out of her ponytail from when she'd twisted her head on the table to give him better access to her neck.

"Slow down, okay? It's not a bloody race!" he shot back.

She huffed and let her legs fall from his waist. She pushed him back with a hand to his chest and struggled to get up. "You know what, never mind, get out of my way."

Harry stepped back in disbelief. "You want to stop? Now?"

Ginny hopped off the table and pulled her jumper down angrily, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Wait a minute," Harry said, his face darkening in anger. "What just happened here? What about us?"

Ginny exploded, partly out of shame at the way she'd just attacked him and partly out of anger at his need to analyse the situation.

"There is no US!" she yelled at him. "There is nothing here!" she gestured back and forth between them, "Do you get that? I just wanted to forget my crappy life for a moment! I just wanted…shite, Harry…do you have to overthink everything!" She moved past him towards the kitchen door, desperate to escape.

"So this is the way it's going to be, huh?" he said, following her into the hallway. "Snog or fight? I don't snog you fast enough on the kitchen table, and so you just walk out like nothing happened between us?"

"It didn't mean anything," Ginny said through gritted teeth. She pivoted around to face him. "I just wanted to forget. I wanted you to make me forget. But you had to go and get all noble, and now we have to examine everything until I'm ready to put a pillow over my head and suffocate myself!"

"You can't just kiss me like that and not expect me to wonder why, Ginny! Nice to know you were just using me!"

"You know what, Harry? I've got an evil wizard and about a hundred Death Eaters trying to kill me! Excuse me for trying to escape reality for a moment!"

"It's not the people trying to kill you that you've got issues with, Ginny! It's the ones who are trying to keep you alive that you've got a problem with!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ginny said in a dangerously low voice.

"It means that you need to get your head out of your arse and focus on someone else's problems for a change. You're not the only one who Voldemort is trying to kill!"

"Why can't we just be normal? Just this once, Harry, why can't we just snog like two regular teenagers and not have it mean anything!?"

"It's not that simple and you know it!"

"It can be," she shot back. "If you'd let it!"

"I can't let it," he thundered at her. "Because it's not that simple! Nothing between us has ever been simple! I'm not going to be some guy you keep on the side, Ginny. Somebody you pull out whenever you want a good f-"

But he never finished the sentence because Ginny slapped him hard across the face. His head spun to one side, and he shook his head to clear the stars that were swimming in front of him.

A sharp sob escaped from her before Ginny grabbed his head in both hands and kissed him again. It was a searing kiss that Harry felt down to his toes, and his arms came up of their own volition to wrap around her torso. But she let go of him and pushed him back before spinning around and sprinting for the stairs.

Harry watched her go, his heart in his throat. He had a sinking feeling that nothing between them would ever be the same.

Harry was unpacking his trunk that Professor McGonagall had sent on from school and had just started to sort through the mess inside when someone knocked softly at the door.

"It's open."

A solemn Ginny entered, shut the door behind her and leaned back against it.

"What do you want?" Harry asked bluntly. He ignored the pleading look on her face.

"I think we should talk," she said quietly.

"So talk. I'm kind of busy here."

She cleared her throat and looked down at her feet. "I came to apologise. I'm sorry for acting like that. I was a real berk. I was worried about my dad and… well, it's just been a really hard term. I lost my head for a minute there."

She looked up at him, and Harry forced himself to ignore the vulnerability in her eyes.

"Tell me, Ginny," he said casually, "did you have a nightmare last night?"

"No. Why do you ask?" she said confusedly.

Harry shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, I thought maybe you'd had a nightmare and woke up and realised that you'd effectively ruined any chance of coming to ME for comfort so you decided to apologise today because you realise you'll eventually need me to take care of you."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at," she said slowly.

"Fine," Harry said, slamming the lid of his trunk closed. Ginny jumped at the sound. "Let me just spell it out for you. Without me, you'd have no one to hold you when you have a nightmare, snog you when you need to forget, rub your back when you can't reach it, carry your schoolbooks, let you nick his Firebolt, help you with your homework and oh yeah…protect you from Tom Riddle." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Face it, Ginny, you're using me because no one else is dumb enough to let you walk all over them. That's what last night was about. Only I wouldn't play your game, and so now you're trying to get me to forgive you so I'll be available the next time you need to forget."

Ginny stared at him in shock. "That is NOT true."

"Isn't it?" he said viciously. "You don't really need me, Ginny. I'm just some crutch you use to get over the rough spots."

"Harry Potter," Ginny said in a dangerous voice, her eyes flashing, "you take that back right now."

He stayed silent, his eyes daring her.

"I need you," she said, her voice hard and angry. "I need you because you're my best friend. I need you to forgive me because without you, I'm just a fucked-up remnant of Tom Riddle's."

She stared at him hard; daring him to challenge that truth.

"I need you to push me, to challenge me…because you make me better, you make me want to live, you make me want to fight stronger and longer, you tell me when I'm being a bitch…and YES, I need you to hold me and comfort me and help me through the nightmares because you are the ONLY one who understands, who has EVER understood-"

She broke off with a sob, and Harry steeled himself against the tears in her eyes.

"And I'm sorry, very sorry, that I treated you like that because you didn't deserve it. It was a mistake and I'm sorry, but you have to forgive me because whether or not you want to admit it — you need me too."

Silence rang in the air while Harry and Ginny stared at each other. Harry forced the bile back in his throat and opened his mouth to say that he DIDN'T need her, to deny what he knew was true.

Ginny could see that Harry was gearing himself up to lie, to push her away like she'd pushed him away last night, and she instantly decided she wouldn't, couldn't let him get away with that. She launched herself at him, wrapped her arms around his neck and used it as leverage to pull herself up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He remained stalwart and still, his arms crossed over his chest even while he let her crawl up his body.

"No," she said, shakily against his ear. "No, don't. You can't. Don't lie. It isn't true…it isn't. You know you need me." She pressed hard kisses along the side of his face, up to his temple and down to his jaw while she whispered, "You need me. You need me."

Harry didn't want it to be true. He wanted to deny her, like she'd denied him last night. But he could feel her tears wetting his cheek, and he knew this was about more than her needing him. It was about Ginny needing to be needed by someone. And gods help him, he needed her too. Needed her because, dammit, she made him feel alive. Made him want to fight, made him want to…

Slowly, he drew his arms out from between them and wrapped them around her waist. He hugged her to him and buried his face in her hair. He breathed deeply past the lump in his throat and enjoyed the feeling of Ginny clinging to him. Because if he was honest with himself, they needed each other. There was another giant reason they both needed each other, but he'd be buggered if he was going to admit to that.

Harry stumbled back until the backs of his legs hit the side of the bed, and he sat down, Ginny on his lap, her legs still around his waist. She hugged him tighter and whispered, "Say it, Harry. Please."

Harry felt like he was walking off a cliff, but he took a deep breath and said it anyway: "I need you."

Ginny shuddered and nestled her face into his neck. She breathed heavily and sniffled. "I know, you big prat. I need you too."

She lifted her head, and he couldn't help but press a gentle kiss to her lips. Ginny smiled, recognising the familiar, comforting kiss. "And don't you forget it," she warned fiercely. "You're stuck with me now."

Harry nodded, and she put her head down on his shoulder.

"Okay," he whispered into her ear. "Okay."


	15. Chapter 15 Possession

Chapter 15

Harry arrived in the Great Hall for lunch after Care of Magical Creatures; he was whistling cheerfully and had a broad smile on his face.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Ginny asked around her mouthful of sandwich.

Harry kissed the crown of her head and plopped down in the seat next to her before reaching for the jug of pumpkin juice. "Congratulate me, Fury; I've got a date for Hogsmeade next weekend. Valentine's Day."

Ginny lifted her eyebrows. "With Cho?"

Harry nodded happily and slapped Ron's hand when he held it up. "Well done, mate," Ron said approvingly. "Where you gonna take her?"

"Oh," Harry's face fell. "I hadn't thought about that."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry, you can't take a girl out and not have a plan. You've got to impress her, show her you cared enough to think about what she'd like to do."

"Trust me on this one," Ron said bluntly, and with the age of wisdom in his voice "girls don't like it if you just plan to take a fly around the Quidditch pitch."

A smile quirked at the corners of Hermione's mouth, but she kept silent, her nose buried in her Arithmancy textbook.

"Cho plays Quidditch," Harry said brightly, "maybe she'd like to go for a fly."

"I don't think so," Ron cautioned. "Besides, Umbridge has your broom."

"Oh, right." He turned to Ginny. "What would you want to do?"

Ginny smiled. "If it were me, I'd want to go for a fly. But I'm not like other girls."

"And you're absolutely sure you won't marry me?" Harry asked, smiling at her fondly. "You're perfect."

She shook her head. "Quit asking me that. And yes, I am perfect."

Harry took half her sandwich off her plate and poured half of his pumpkin juice into her empty cup.

"Here," she said, reaching for a nearby plate "that doesn't have pickles on it." Harry held the bread off while she forked some pickles onto the meat and then took a bite. He sighed happily.

"You make the best sandwiches," he told her. He took another bite and looked up to find Ron watching them strangely.

"What?" asked Harry, swallowing his bite.

"Nothing," Ron shook his head. "So where're you gonna take her?"

"I don't know," Harry answered, worriedly. It was his first official date with Cho, and he hadn't even thought past the asking her part. Although, he frowned a little, it'd been more like she asked him.

"Take her Madame Puddifoot's," Hermione announced, shutting her textbook. "She'll think you're romantic."

"Madame Puddifoot's? What's that?"

Ginny shuddered. "It's horrible. Lots of lace and hearts and since you'll be there on Valentine's Day," she shuddered again, "there's bound to be lots of cupids."

"It's a tea shop," Hermione instructed. "You haven't forgotten about meeting me in the Three Broomsticks for _The Quibbler_ interview have you?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I figured we stop in there after…well…whatever we decide to do."

"I'm still not sure that's a good idea," Ginny grumped. "Harry shouldn't have to defend himself to Rita bloody Skeeter."

"I know he doesn't have to," Hermione said, "but I still think it'd be good for him to answer all the accusations the Daily Prophet has been making. _The Quibbler_ is the only one that will print the truth, Ginny."

"All right, all right," Harry held up his hands. "We've been over and over this. I'm doing the interview. I'm tired of the Daily Prophet saying I'm making up all this stuff about Voldemort returning; maybe this will make a difference."

"Fine, fine," Ginny said. She finished her pumpkin juice and tossed her napkin on the table. "I've got to go; I promised Luna and Colin I'd meet them in the library in five minutes."

Harry grabbed an apple from a nearby bowl and handed it to her. "Put this in your bag," he instructed her. "You know how hungry you get about 2 o'clock."

Ginny wrinkled her nose at him, but took the apple and put it in her satchel before slinging the bag over her head and settling it diagonally across her chest. "Thanks." She kissed him on the cheek and left.

Harry turned back to his sandwich to find Ron staring at him, that same strange look on his face.

"What now?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Nothing," Ron said, shaking his head. "Never mind."

As it turned out, the fact that Ginny thought Madame Puddifoot's was "worse than an Occlumency lesson with Snape" was a point in her favour. Although Cho had loved Madame Puddifoot's, Harry had decidedly not. The date started awkwardly, got more comfortable and then ended badly. Cho accused Harry of dumping her over for Hermione and said something nasty about Ginny that Harry nearly hexed her for. He didn't care that perhaps he should have made the reasons behind why he had to meet Hermione at 2 o'clock in the Three Broomsticks a bit more clear; and he didn't particularly care for the way Cho had tried to make him jealous of other guys who might have wanted to ask her out.

Cho was noticeably absent from the next D.A. practice and Harry was grateful. He'd pursued things with her because he figured it was important that he accept he and Ginny would only ever be friends. He had to learn to be content with that and dating other girls was probably the best way to do it. But now that his first epic romance had been a disaster, Harry decided to chalk it up to experience and not let it affect the rest of life. Truthfully, he had more important things to worry about.

He and Ginny continued the D.A. to great success; Harry was amazed at how well he and Ginny worked together. They'd gotten in the habit of showing up early and practicing spells against each other. Several D.A. members figured out what they were doing and soon Harry and Ginny were beginning each meeting with a duel. Harry almost wished he could have stood on the sidelines just to watch Ginny duel; she was fierce, and she didn't stop until she'd given everything she had to give. He noticed Dean Thomas watching her in admiration and he was glad that, if Ginny had to date, that it would be someone who appreciated the power she brought.

Outside the D.A., things weren't so good. His nightmares were only getting longer and worse. Snape had ended their Occlumency lessons after Harry had fallen into Snape's Pensieve and witnessed a memory that gave more credence to Snape's opinion of James Potter than Harry could have imagined. The James Potter Harry had seen in the Pensieve was cocky and arrogant and this greatly disturbed him.

He desperately wanted to talk to Sirius about the whole thing, but Umbridge was watching all the fireplaces and reading all their owls. He didn't dare attempt to contact him. When he told Ginny about his dilemma she jumped at the chance to cause a distraction so he could sneak into Umbridge's fireplace; probably the only one in the castle that wasn't being monitored.

"Believe me," she smiled wickedly. "Fred and George and I have been working a long time on this."

Fred and George Weasley's idea of a distraction was the best entertainment Hogwarts had seen in years. The fireworks lasted for days - strangely the other professors were reluctant to banish them - and the strength of the Summoning charm Fred and George used to retrieve their brooms from where Umbridge had locked them was publicly complimented by Professor Flitwick.

Ginny seemed bereft after her brothers left to go open their own joke shop in Diagon Alley. "It'll be all right," she assured Harry. "When Mum finds out they've left school before their NEWTS, the screaming alone will be worth missing them."

Harry, who had felt only a little better after his hurried conversation with Sirius in the fireplace, noticed it was becoming harder and harder to keep the D.A. a secret. Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad followed many of them around, and it grew more difficult to enter the Room of Requirement without being seen. He and Ginny came up with elaborate schemes to distract the Squad in other parts of the castle, but this usually meant one of them could not be present during the meeting.

Harry had almost finished the last D.A. meeting before OWL exams began when Ginny burst in. She looked like she'd run the whole length of the castle; there was a wild look on her face, and her hair had fallen out of its ponytail.

"Umbridge!" She gasped out. "Cho's friend, Marietta, blabbed! She's found out about the Room! They're coming for us! Everyone's got to leave!"

Occupants of the room stood frozen in shock for about two seconds, and then there was a mad dash for the door.

"Wait!" Hermione cried. "We've got to be careful! Everyone split up!" She directed everyone out of the room in pairs or threes. Most of them made it away, but as Harry and Ginny slipped out of the room, they came face to face with Deloris Umbridge.

An hour later, Harry and Ginny headed back to Gryffindor Tower with heavy hearts and a temporarily stifled rage.

"Bitch," Ginny grumbled.

"Did you see the way Dumbledore left though? That was wicked."

"I guess," Ginny said, "but I can't believe the Ministry has gone so far as to try to arrest Professor Dumbledore! What are they thinking? Without Dumbledore here, we might as well send an engraved invitation to Voldemort inviting him for tea."

Harry laughed in spite of the situation. "What would it say? 'The students of Hogwarts invite Lord Voldemort to partake in afternoon tea. Death Eater dress required.'"

Ginny grinned. "I'll bring the stuffed animals if you bring the biscuits."

"Be sure to bring only stuffed snakes."

They grinned at each other, and Ginny slid an arm around his waist to lean into him as they walked down the corridor. "It's not your fault you know."

Harry nodded and put his arm around her shoulders. "I know."

"No you don't," she retorted. "You're blaming yourself when it's not your fault at all. It's Umbridge's for being such a bitch and it's the Ministry's for being so suspicious. Or, if you like, it's my fault for thinking up the name 'Dumbledore's Army' in the first place; or Marietta's fault for thinking she had to snitch on us in order to protect her mum's job at the Ministry."

"I still can't believe he took the blame for us," Harry said. "I wonder why he did that."

She shrugged. "He knew he wasn't going to stick around, but we have to. Maybe he was trying to spare us."

Harry swallowed the lump in throat. Professor Dumbledore had told Umbridge the whole thing was his idea, and then he and Fawkes had vanished in a ball of flame. Harry had never seen anything so spectacular in his life. Umbridge had been livid.

They arrived back in the common room where their dorm mates had concocted several scenarios about what had happened to them; each one worse than the last. When Harry and Ginny explained what had actually happened, it was almost a let down.

The fifth-years barely had time to contemplate Dumbledore's absence and Umbridge's new position as Headmistress. They threw themselves into studying for the OWL exams. Harry, Ron and Hermione spent many late nights in the common room revising. Between the all night revising sessions and the nightmares, Harry was getting very little sleep.

Ginny soon figured this out, and sometimes when Harry finally stumbled up to bed after studying, she was already asleep in his four-poster. He was always pleased to find her there and would quickly change into his pyjamas and climb gratefully into bed beside her. Harry was amazed at how much better he slept when she was there. Ginny kept the nightmares away, and so when OWL week finally arrived, he felt refreshed.

Ginny had felt guilty all day. It was the last day of OWL exams, and she hadn't spent the night in Harry's bed; he'd looked just awful this morning at breakfast. Ginny didn't know why sleeping with Harry stopped both of their nightmares, but she wasn't about to complain about it; last night she'd simply fallen asleep in her own bed and had never woken back up to go to Harry's. He'd smiled at her this morning and said he was fine, but she knew better.

She ate dinner with Colin and spent the evening reading a book in the Gryffindor common room. Just as she was about to reach the climax of the book, she heard noises outside and stood up from the window bench to look out of the window.

Colin's head shot up when he heard her gasp. "What is it?"

"It's Umbridge!" Ginny breathed. "She's after Hagrid…Oh! They stunned McGonagall! Those filthy bastards!"

Several minutes later, Ron and Hermione burst through the portrait door, a pale-faced Harry walking between them.

"What's wrong?" asked Ginny, alarmed.

"It's Sirius," Harry managed. "I-I saw into Voldemort's head, he's got Sirius at the Ministry. He's going to kill him!"

He didn't stop to explain further, but ran to the stairs and hurried up them. She looked at Ron and Hermione, dumbfounded. "Where's he gone now?"

Hermione looked worried and said so. "What if it's a trick, Ginny? What if Voldemort is using the connection because he wants to trap Harry?"

Ginny opened her mouth to deny it, but a tiny whisper inside of her said that Hermione could be right. "What about Sirius?" she demanded. "Has he tried to contact him?"

Ron nodded tightly. "We're going to sneak into Umbridge's fireplace and Floo Grimmauld Place."

"I'll help," she said instantly.

Harry came barrelling back down the stairs with Neville in tow.

"I'm going to help," Neville was saying firmly. Ginny thought maybe he'd been arguing with Harry upstairs.

Harry fumbled with his Invisibility cloak and Marauder's Map. "I'm going alone," he told all of them. "There's no need for all of you to get in trouble."

"Like hell you are," Ginny said sharply. "We're in this together."

Harry found it didn't matter what he said, they all followed him out of the common room and down to Umbridge's office anyway. Along the way they ran into Luna Lovegood who also insisted on helping.

"Great," Harry mumbled. "Let's just have a party in Umbridge's office, why don't we?"

_One hour later:_

Harry raced with Hermione back through the Forbidden Forest, determined to get back to Hogwarts and find a way to the Ministry to rescue Sirius. It had only been an hour since he'd had that vision of Voldemort torturing Sirius in the Ministry of Magic, but it'd felt like forever. Umbridge had discovered Harry using her fire and her Inquisitorial Squad goons had captured them all; Ginny, Neville and Luna included. Hermione had managed to save him from the Cruciatus curse by leading Umbridge on a wild goose chase to the Forest where Hagrid's brother Grawp and the Centaurs had taken care of her.

"What are we going to do when we get back to the castle?" Hermione gasped.

"Rescue Ginny and the others," Harry said grimly. "And then I'm going to the Ministry to get Sirius."

"Harry, are you sure-" Hermione broke off with a gasp when they broke through the trees and saw Ron, Neville, Luna and Ginny running towards them.

"How did you get free?" she asked.

Ron grinned and threw Hermione and Harry's wands to them. "It was Ginny. She kneed Malfoy in the bollocks and hit him with a bat-bogey. Never seen anything like it in my life."

"It was nothing," Ginny said modestly, buffing her nails on her jumper. "I eat people like Malfoy for breakfast."

"I've got to go," Harry said impatiently. "The rest of you go back to the castle and try to Floo someone in the Order and-"

There was an immediate outcry at his words.

"We're going with you," Neville said quietly. "What have we been doing in the D.A. all this year? All that stuff you said about sticking together; was it all rubbish, then?"

"No, of course not, but-"

"Harry, are you sure Kreacher can be trusted?" Hermione pleaded. "It might still be a trick. Let's all go back and-"

"There's not enough time," Harry thundered. "Voldemort has Sirius! Dumbledore isn't here and McGonagall's hurt. I won't lose my godfather to him too!"

"I know, Harry," Hermione said. "But think about it. Why does he have Sirius? How did he get him?"

"I don't know…look, it you don't believe me then you don't have to go."

"It's not a question of not believing you," Hermione said simply. "I just think-"

Harry interrupted her. "Do you believe me?" he asked, turning abruptly to Ginny.

Ginny hesitated. "I believe that you saw Sirius," she said carefully, "but I also think Hermione has a point. Harry, this could be a trick."

"You heard Kreacher," he said through gritted teeth, "Sirius wasn't there. He's gone. He's at the Ministry and Voldemort has him. I _have_ to go to him."

He looked at each of them in turn, ending with Ginny, who didn't look back. "None of you have to follow me," he said. "I'll understand if you don't. I don't want any of you to get hurt."

Ginny's head shot up, and she inhaled sharply as she met his eyes. "I would follow you anywhere, anytime," she said quietly.

Warmth filled Harry's chest. Her unwavering support meant everything to him. In spite of what they'd been through this year and what they'd put each other through — Michael Corner dying, Occlumency lessons with Snape, fighting over Draco Malfoy, snogging at Christmas — Ginny was still here; she was still on his side. He felt like kissing her.

"We're with you, mate," Ron said determinedly. "We'd never let you go it alone."

Neville and Luna voiced their agreement, and Harry swung his gaze to Hermione.

"Well, of course I'm with you," she threw up her hands. "I'd never let you do without me, Harry. I just think we should be careful."

"Agreed," said Harry. "Now, how are we going to get there?"

Luna smiled serenely, like she had a secret. "We're going to fly of course."

She gestured to the forest behind Harry and he turned, startled to see three Thestrals, the invisible horses that pulled the Hogwarts carriages, gliding through the trees towards them.

Ten minutes later, Hermione and Ron were doing amazingly well considering they were climbing onto an animal neither one of them could see. Luna sat perched on her Thestral with Neville behind her, looking terrified, but determined as he gripped her shoulders in front of him. Harry climbed atop his own mount and reached down a hand to help up Ginny. She scrambled up and snuggled close behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist. He placed one hand over her clasped hands and squeezed. Ginny tucked her head into the crook of his neck and he felt a soft kiss to his cheek.

"For luck!" she said. He nodded and dug his heels gently into the sides of the Thestral. One by one, the Thestrals rose into the air, their large skeletal wings pumping faster and faster as they left Hogwarts behind.

When they finally arrived in London, Harry directed his Thestral to an alley behind the Ministry. He dismounted and turned back around to help Ginny down. He lifted her off the Thestral and hugged her briefly before he set her down, brushing a kiss across her lips as he did so.

"For luck," he smiled faintly at her. Ginny bit her lip and nodded. She slid her hand into his, and Harry laced their fingers together, grateful for the contact. Together, the six of them made a run for the red telephone booth and squeezed inside.

Ginny maintained her grip on his hand even as they sped through the Ministry searching for the door Harry had remembered from his dream.

"This is it," he said, when they reached the Department of Mysteries. Ginny squeezed his hand and let go, choosing instead to grip her wand.

They entered the room and following his memories of the vision he'd had, Harry led to them the Hall of Prophecies. Thousands of bookcases with white glowing glass orbs filled the darkened room.

"Blimey," Ron said, looking up and up in awe.

"Where is he?" Harry said impatiently. "This is where Voldemort had him, I'm sure of it But he's not-" he turned around swiftly and ran down the aisles, "he's not here!"

He looked back in despair at his friends. Had they been right? Had this all been a trick? Or had Voldemort already taken Sirius elsewhere?

"Harry," Neville said. "That one has your name on it." He pointed to a glowing ball quivering on a nearby shelf.

Harry walked over to where Neville was pointing and stared at the glass ball. Attached was a label that listed a date, his name and "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" with a question mark beside it. He reached out to touch it-

"Harry, I'm not sure you should do that," Hermione said quickly.

"Why not? It's got his name on it," Ron interjected. "Go on, Harry."

Harry closed his hand around the ball and felt it grow warm beneath his palm. He picked it up. It was surprisingly heavy.

"What is it?" he asked, turning it over in his hands.

"It's a prophecy," Hermione said quietly, "About you and Voldemort. This is why he wanted you to come here."

Harry looked up at his friend who looked back at him sadly. He could read what was written on her face — he'd been duped. They all had.

"Quiet," Ginny suddenly barked. She pointed her wand back down the aisle and stepped backward until she was lined up with Harry, who'd lifted his wand at her warning. Hermione, Ron, Neville and Luna acted, immediately grouping together so that every direction was covered.

"I heard something," Ginny whispered softly to Harry in parseltongue. Harry and Ginny had learned the advantage of parseltongue was that it could be spoken at a lower volume than normal human speech; they often used it to communicate during duels with the D.A.

"It's a trap," he hissed back. "Dammit."

"You don't know that," she insisted, but Harry could see dark, shadowy figures moving towards them. They looked too familiar.

Death Eaters.

Harry's heart sank into his stomach when Lucius Malfoy came into view. Several other Death Eaters came out of the shadows to form a half-circle around them, including, Harry noticed, Bellatrix Lestrange. He'd led his friends into a trap that could very likely get them all killed. And Sirius? Where was he? Was he okay?

"Well, well, well," Lucius smiled at them. "What do we have here? A rescue mission?"

"What have you done with Sirius?" Harry demanded.

Lucius let out a cold laugh. "My Lord really is ingenious, you know. He's been messing with your mind all year…oh…didn't you know, Potter?" He clicked his tongue at them.

"Pity you were all worked up about your precious godfather. Now," he pulled out his wand and pointed it at him, "give me that little ball there and you and your friends can go free."

Ron snorted in disbelief to Harry's right, and he gripped the prophecy in his hand tighter. Rage washed through him, but it was followed by a wave of resolve. He wouldn't let Voldemort have the prophecy. He had no idea what was in it, but if the snake wanted it this bad, Harry would do everything in his power to keep it from him.

"This?" Harry held up the prophecy. "He wants this?"

Lucius' eyes glittered as they fastened on the glass ball. "Yes. Give it to me."

Harry pretended to consider the idea. "No," he said finally, "I don't think so." He lifted his wand.

"Careful, Potter," Malfoy spat, all traces of geniality gone. "I know curses that would make your head spin."

"Do you? Well, I know Ginny."

Ginny smirked next to him and waggled her eyebrows at Malfoy. A Death Eater moved closer to her, and she whipped her wand around to point it at him menacingly.

"This is taking too long, Lucius," Bellatrix snapped from behind him. "Let's just kill them and be done with it." Her eyes sparkled with something that made Harry shiver. "Let's start with the small one." Those maniacal eyes fastened on Ginny.

Harry immediately reached out and grabbed Ginny around the waist from the front, sweeping her behind him with one arm. She protested loudly, but he kept his arm wrapped around her waist, her body tightly pressed against his back, his hand still clutching the prophecy. Ginny squirmed briefly, but eventually gave in and pointed her wand at Malfoy next to Harry's. Ron and Luna moved up to protect Ginny from the side, and she was soon encased in a protective bubble of friends.

"Ooo," Bellatrix cackled at him. "Is baby Potter a widdle protective?"

"You have no idea," Harry said between his clenched teeth.

"Now, now," Lucius soothed. "There's no need for all this drama. Just give us what we want, and we'll leave."

Bellatrix stepped forward, her fingertips caressing the tip of her wand, but a look from Lucius made her take a step back.

"Why don't you leave?" Harry suggested coolly. "And tell your silly little 'Dark Lord' that Harry Potter doesn't send his regards."

"Why you little-" Bellatrix gasped and started forward again.

"Ah, ah, ah," Harry said. He let go of his death grip on Ginny and held up the prophecy. "You see, unlike your precious Voldemort, I have no qualms about breaking this." He held it out to the side and let it slip down to the tips of his fingers.

"No!" Lucius jumped and then checked himself.

"What's the matter, Lucius?" Ginny taunted. "Afraid your master won't welcome you with open arms if you go back with a pile of crashed glass?"

"This is all pointless," Bellatrix whined. "Why can't we just curse them?"

"Our Lord wants the prophecy," Lucius reminded her. "And that boy is holding it."

"On the count of three," Ginny whispered in parseltongue in Harry's ear, "Luna is going to cause a distraction. Run for the door, we'll be behind you."

"When did you work that out?" he said out of the corner of his mouth.

"While you were verbally sparring," she replied, "and right after you went all caveman on me."

"Don't get dead," was the only reply, and she smiled, even though he couldn't see it. Instead she put her hand on his hip and squeezed gently.

Ginny looked to her left, gave a short nod to Hermione who then looked at Luna and held up three fingers. When the third one fell, Luna simply reached out and pushed on the closest bookcase. It went over with a groan, glass balls dropping and rolling across the floor; many crashed and broke and the sound of a hundred prophecies rose into the air. The heavy shelf crashed into another shelf and trapped at least one Death Eater among the glass orbs.

Luna followed up the distraction by shooting powerful stunning spells at the Death Eaters facing her. One of them hit its mark, and the fight was on.

Harry dodged the spells streaking towards him and ran with the others back down the way they'd come. They headed for the door, Ron and Neville shooting spells behind them while Lucius bellowed at his Death Eaters to not hit Harry and the prophecy.

"Hermione," he panted, shooting a quick spell over his shoulder. "Take the prophecy and get everyone out of here! I'll stay and hold them off."

"Not a chance," she said grimly. "I said we wouldn't leave you, and I meant it."

"This is no time for heroics, Potter," Ginny yelled at him. "Move your arse!" She whirled around and shouted _Reducto_! The curse flew out of her wand with more power than Ginny had ever felt before. It flew down the aisle, eventually hitting a bookcase and exploding it with enough force to knock down one entire side of the room.

"Whoa," Ron breathed.

"C'mon," Hermione said urgently, "this way."

They took advantage of the momentary distraction Ginny had caused and followed Hermione out into the small room through which they'd entered the Hall of Prophecies. Several doors lined the circular room and they halted, unsure which way to continue.

"Which one did we come through?" asked Neville desperately.

"This one," Hermione said confidently. She strode to a doorway and opened it, shrieked loudly, and slammed it shut again. "Maybe not."

"Try them all," Ginny commanded.

Each of them rushed to a doorway, but only the one that Ron opened seemed like a viable option.

"I think the doorways switch around," Hermione panted as they ran down a hallway. "None of those doors were the one we came through."

It didn't take the Death Eaters long to catch them up. Harry ducked when a shout from Luna warned him that a spell was streaking towards him. The spell hit the wall hard enough to chip away bits of stone.

"In here!" Ron shouted.

Harry ran around the corner and they all hurried into a large circular room and slammed the door shut behind them; they heard several spells hit the door just as they closed it. Hermione put the strongest locking spell she could think of on the lock.

"I don't think that's going to hold them very long," Ron gasped, leaning his weight against the door.

Harry barely heard him. He was focused on a stone arch that stood in the centre of the room. There was an unseen wind blowing a tattered piece of cloth suspended from the arch, and as he drew closer, he could hear soft whispers coming from behind the arch.

"Harry!" Ginny called his name, breaking his trance. "You okay?"

He took a deep breath and looked back at the archway. "Yeah. Can you hear them though?"

"Hear what?"

"The whispers." He turned to see her looking at him strangely. "You can't hear them?"

She shook her head. "What are they saying?"

"I dunno, I can't make it out."

"I hear them too," Luna said in a soft voice. Harry jumped; he hadn't known she was right behind him.

"Do you know what they are?"

"No," she cocked her head, listening. "But it makes sense that only some of us could hear them. Not everyone in this room has seen death."

Harry looked back at the archway in alarm. "What is that thing?"

"I think it's called 'the Veil," said Luna in her soft, dreamy voice. "I read about it somewhere."

Harry was about to ask her more, but the doorway to the room suddenly gave out and the Death Eaters came swarming in. He pushed Luna and Ginny down behind one of the benches that lined the circular room and frantically searched for Ron, Hermione and Neville. They were fighting in a corner across the room. Ron had a gash across his cheek and Hermione was favouring her left arm.

"I should just give the prophecy to them," he told Ginny through gritted teeth. "Maybe they'd just take it and leave."

"Yeah right," she scoffed. "And miss the chance to capture you? Or me? Besides, don't you want to know what it says?"

He fired a stunning spell at the group and ducked back down. "At this point I'd rather just stay alive. I don't have it anyway, I gave it to Hermione."

"Harry," Ginny asked. The quiet tone in her voice startled him into looking at her. "How are we going to get out of here? We're trapped in this room and no one knows we're here."

But Ginny had spoken too soon. No sooner had she uttered the words then Harry heard a dozen pops entering the room. They both peered over the edge of the bench to find members of the Order of the Phoenix joining the fight; Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Mad-Eye…they were all there. A spell sped towards them, and they ducked back down and grinned at each other.

"I guess good triumphs again," Ginny said wryly.

Harry just kept grinning and grabbed her hand. "I've got to go find Sirius," he said. "You'll be okay?"

"Please, Potter; I've got this wrapped up. Go find him; when you do, kick him for being late."

"Will do. Be careful, Luna," Harry said to her. She looked back and smiled serenely at him before standing up and firing a powerful hex at an advancing Death Eater that turned him into a flowering tree.

"She's sort of scary, isn't she?" Ginny commented. Harry could only nod.

"Go," she urged, "I'll cover you."

Crouching down, Harry walked crab-like to the edge of the stone bench they'd been behind. He looked back at Ginny, gave her a swift nod and they both stood up at the same time; Ginny firing hexes and curses so fast he was amazed she could catch her breath between spells. She kept her barrage up until he reached Sirius who was duelling Lucius Malfoy over by the Veil archway.

"Sirius!" he shouted.

"Harry, my boy!" Sirius shouted back jovially. "How are you?"

Godfather and godson stood back to back, firing spells at Death Eaters. Harry had never seen Sirius so animated. His eyes shone and his long black hair flew around him as he hurled spell after spell towards Lucius. He looked more alive than Harry had ever seen him.

"Not too great!" he called back. "I think I failed my astronomy OWL."

"Oh well, it's the effort that counts," Sirius said. "Aha!"

Harry turned in time to watch Lucius Malfoy drop like a stone to the floor. Sirius gave a loud bark of laughter. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed.

"Where's Red?"

"Over there," Harry nodded towards the corner where Ginny and Luna had abandoned all pretence of hiding and were fighting side-by-side. Ginny had a fierce look on her face while Luna looked like she always did…except for the steady stream of spells flying out of her wand.

"She's a bit irritated with you, I'm afraid," Harry told him. "She says to tell you you're late."

"Merlin, she glorious," Sirius said, his gaze fixed on Ginny. "Looks just like your mother."

The two of them were so entranced they didn't notice Bellatrix Lestrange sneaking up behind them until a spell just missed Sirius. They spun around, wands out, but when Sirius saw it was Bellatrix, he shoved Harry back.

"Stay behind me!" he shouted to Harry, who obeyed and took several steps back.

"Bellatrix, dearest cousin! Do you miss Azkaban so much that'd you risk all this? I'm sure the Dementors would welcome you home gladly!"

Bellatrix hissed angrily back at him, but Sirius kept taunting her. Harry turned away from their duel to search for Ron and Hermione who were both fighting with a Death Eater he did not recognize. Ron kept trying to shield Hermione, but she was having none of it and kept shoving him aside so she could fire her own spells. Harry would have laughed at them if the situation hadn't been so dire.

The Death Eater finally managed to stun Ron. Hermione, in her rage, fired back with a vengeance. One of her spells rebounded off the Death Eater's shield and she was forced to dive to the floor to avoid the backlash. Harry heard a sickening tinkle of glass and with a gasp, Hermione rolled off the broken prophecy; the Death Eater stopped and they both watched in horror as a shimmering ball of light rose gently in the air before fading away. The room was so noisy with the sounds of duels that no one heard what the prophecy said.

Hermione looked up and met Harry's eyes across the room. There was an apology written on her face, but Harry didn't care about some stupid prophecy. The Death Eater behind her became so enraged that he fired a spell at Hermione before Harry could warn her. She slumped on the ground, her body covering the broken shards of glass.

"Hey!" Harry started towards them, but Bellatrix gave a sudden cackle of triumph and he turned back just in time to watch a sickly green light from her wand hit Sirius in the dead centre of his chest.

His godfather fell, a surprised look on his face and almost gracefully, backwards through the archway. The cloth that Harry had noticed earlier reached out and swallowed his body, pulling him back until there was nothing left.

Harry heard someone screaming in rage, but he didn't realize it was him until he felt two strong arms surrounding him. It was Remus.

"No! Harry, he's gone! He's gone! You can't get him back!" Remus was restraining him and Harry scarcely recognized that he was struggling to get away, to jump through the Veil and find Sirius' body. Remus' voice was hoarse and Harry dimly registered that he was crying.

Tears were running down Harry's own face and he couldn't think, couldn't feel anything except that Sirius was gone. He felt an intense hatred fill his being until he could only focus on Bellatrix sneaking out the door. He pushed Remus away with a roar and went after her. He chased her through the Ministry while she laughed and cackled back at him.

"Did baby Potter lose his widdle godfather?" she sneered over her shoulder.

Harry felt the rage inside of him press forward, aching to get out. He raised his wand and shouted, "_Crucio_!"

The spell hit Bellatrix in the back and she fell to the ground. Harry had never felt more powerful, and he watched, his expression blank, while she writhed on the ground. The spell didn't last long, and she looked up at him, a smirk on her face.

"You have to mean it for it to last, Potter," she said scornfully. "You're not nearly powerful enough."

Harry would have tried to cast the spell again, but his scar suddenly exploded in such pain that his knees buckled. Bellatrix gave a high-pitched squeal of joy and Harry turned to see his worst nightmare walking towards him through the Ministry atrium.

Voldemort had arrived.

Ginny had seen Sirius fall and her heart broke with such intensity that she faltered and fell to her knees. She watched the spot where he'd gone through the Veil in shock, hoping that he'd step back through at any moment. She barely registered Harry's grief, so wrapped up was she in her own.

Luna stunned the final Death Eater in front of them and turned to Ginny. She looked up at her, barely seeing the compassionate look Luna was giving her and stared dazedly at the hand she was holding out to her.

"He's going to come back," she told Luna stupidly. "He -- he was right _there_."

"He won't ever come back," Luna said gently. "He's gone through the Veil; Bellatrix killed him."

"She -- she…" Ginny heard a scream, a roar of rage she knew to be Harry and watched him run after Bellatrix out of the room. "I hope he kills her," she said distantly.

Luna watched her shrewdly. "No, you don't," she said. "I expect you'd better go after him, Ginny."

"Go -- go after him?" Ginny felt like she was in some sort of tunnel where she couldn't see on either side. She could only see the moment that Sirius fell. It replayed over and over again in her mind until she had to blink furiously to get the image away.

"Ginny!" Luna said sharply. "Snap out of it."

Nothing made sense, Ginny decided. "Sirius can't be dead," she said decisively. "He -- he's-"

She looked up at Luna desperately. "He's just there, isn't he? Just beyond the Veil? We can go get him."

Luna sunk to her knees in front of Ginny and grasped her by the arms. "Ginny," she snapped. "You are in shock. We cannot go after Sirius. He is dead. Bellatrix killed him. He fell through the Veil and we are never going to get his body back. You have to think of Harry," she shook her. "Harry went after Bellatrix alone! He's going to get hurt if you don't go after him."

An image of Harry falling through the Veil sprang to Ginny's mind, and it snapped her back to reality.

"Luna!" she gasped, scrambling to her feet. "Harry went after Bellatrix alone! I have to go!"

Luna sighed in relief and sat back on her heels. "Yes," she said simply, "you do."

"Thanks!" Ginny called over her shoulder as she ran across the room. She hopped over fallen Death Eaters and ignored the shouts of her brother Bill as she sped past him. She had no idea where Bellatrix would have gone, but her feet led her towards the Ministry Atrium.

As she neared the area she heard signs of a powerful wizard's duel taking place. Stone and glass littered the atrium and immense spell lights lit up the area. Ginny heard the calm shouts of Dumbledore and the enraged screeches of Voldemort. Her pulse pounded; she hadn't seen Tom Riddle…Voldemort…since the Chamber of Secrets three years ago. Harry said he looked completely different now, but all she could remember was a dark-haired, handsome boy with an ugly sneer on his face.

The room grew suddenly quiet, and then Harry screamed in pain. Fearing the worst, she ran into the atrium and saw Harry writhing on the floor, urging Professor Dumbledore — _when did he get there? _— to kill him. Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, and she knew instantly what was happening.

"Get out of him!" she shouted, running over to Harry and shoving Dumbledore out of the way. "Tom, get out of him now!"

Harry looked up and smiled evilly at her. He licked his lips, and she shuddered. She knew it wasn't Harry, but it was disconcerting to see that expression on Harry's face.

"Tom," she commanded in a deadly voice. "Get out of him. Right. Now." She pointed her wand at Harry's body and was surprised to see that her hand wasn't shaking. She'd thought for sure that it would shake if she tried to bluff Voldemort.

"Harry," she said sharply. "Listen to me. You can fight him. Push him out." She dropped to her knees beside him. "Focus on me, Harry." She dropped her wand and ran her fingers through his hair, one hand cupping his cheek. "Harry, listen to me. It's Ginny. You've got to focus on the sound of my voice. Push him out."

"Gin-ny," Harry gasped and she rained kisses on his pale, sweaty forehead, cheeks and lips.

"Let go of him, Tom." Ginny was past begging.

"Very well," Harry/Voldemort hissed at her. Harry gave another scream as Voldemort ripped himself from his body, and he slumped back to the floor.

Voldemort flew out of Harry's body and straight into Ginny's. Her body lurched away from Harry's, and she gave a soft, "oh" before falling back to the floor, her mouth open in a silent scream of pain.

Ginny, who had always been able to feel the part of her that Tom Riddle had left behind from his last possession, felt the way this part of her gloried in the rejoining as Voldemort possessed her again. It rose and swirled in triumph as the darkness inside of him shoved its way past the light inside of her. Her fingers curled as power poured into her. It was tempting, so tempting, to just slip away and let the darkness take over. Ginny would cease to exist and she could become someone else…someone feared.

Tom whispered to her, his mesmerizing voice promising more power than she could ever dream of. His words added to the darkness swirling inside of her until it was a thundering in her head, her ears and her heart.

Into this vortex entered a small, tiny light of hope. It was Harry. His voice cut through the darkness. He sounded weary, so weary, and she wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him, to help him, the way he always helped her.

"Harry!" her mind screamed and she began to fight the darkness, to push Voldemort away. She felt like she was trying to stop a sink from overflowing, and she worked harder, until she was panting for breath and sweat was rolling down her back.

"Ginny!" Harry shouted, his voice hoarse with tears and frustration.

"Stop it! You can't have her," he shouted at Voldemort. "Ginny, please!" He clutched her to him, his forehead pressed against hers even though it hurt his scar to be so close.

"Think of me, Ginny," he pleaded. "That's how I got him out of me, I thought of you…and Sirius…and -- and love."

Images began to pour into Ginny's brain. They were full of light and love and laughter, and she noticed how Voldemort recoiled from them. She began thinking of more, pulling the images forward faster than she could think of the details. Her parents, her brothers…Bill swinging her around as a child…her mother's warm hugs…Hermione's friendship, Colin, Luna, Neville…Sirius, the way he'd made her laugh and teased her about Harry…Harry, whose friendship passed the intensity of normal friendships until it evolved into something that was as much a part of her as was her hand, or her arm. She remembered the way he hugged her, the feeling of his lips on hers last Christmas, the way he _always_ forgave her…the way he-

With an enraged gasp of pain, Voldemort wrenched himself from Ginny's body. She returned to herself abruptly, aware only of the pain and of Harry's hand on her face.

"Ginny?" he whispered, lifting his head to look at her.

"Harry," she said weakly. She lifted a shaking hand to his cheek. "Sirius-"

"I know," his voice broke.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "So, so, sorry."

Harry didn't reply; he just buried his face in her neck. She could feel his hot tears wetting her skin as he gathered her to him. She heard her name being yelled from across the atrium and turned her head. She vaguely registered her father and her brother running towards them before her eyes closed, and she passed out.

Harry let Ginny slump back to the floor and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and said, "Harry."

He nodded and sat back on his heels. "She'll be fine," he reassured himself.

"Harry, I'm going to give you a Portkey," Dumbleore said. "It will take you back to my office. I want you to wait there for me."

"I want to stay with Ginny," he said in a hard voice.

"I know, but Arthur and Bill will take care of her and you can see her later," Dumbledore said. "There are things we need to discuss."

He pulled out a handkerchief, turned it into a Portkey and held it out to Harry.

Harry looked at the Portkey and back down at Ginny and then at Dumbledore who looked more shaken than Harry had ever seen him. With a heavy sigh, he took the Portkey.


	16. Chapter 16 Enough Good in the World

A/N: Everyone keeps saying: "Don't add the Dean/Ginny thing! It wouldn't be right!" In fact, most of you seem to be sick to your stomachs at the thought of it. So, I thought I would just take a few minutes and reassure you – the Dean thing WILL happen (calm down, calm down) but his appearance will be minimal. This story has focused a lot on Harry's emotional maturity, but this is not the case with Ginny. I hope I make that more clear as we go on. She is a lot more clueless as to her feelings, and she'll be using Dean more as an escape than anything – and because Harry is a bit of a coward. Their relationship will last longer than Harry and Cho's did, but hang in there – Harry and Ginny both eventually come around and then it's blissful happiness for the rest of the story (well, except for that whole Voldemort thing). Just a few more chapters to go before they are together forever, but oh, it's going to be a bumpy ride! Thanks for the continued support and I promise if you keep reading all your Harry/Ginny dreams will come true.

Chapter 16

Ginny watched unobtrusively as Harry flew in circles around the makeshift Quidditch pitch behind the Burrow. He was avoiding everyone again, and she had been, quite frankly, at a loss as how to deal with the situation. She couldn't decide if he needed to hit something or have a good cry.

So much had happened since that night at the Ministry when Sirius had died. Ginny had passed out after Voldemort had possessed them both and woken up in the Hogwarts hospital wing. She'd barely seen Harry, although he had stopped by to make sure she was okay. They'd had a tearful reunion but she'd scarcely seen him since then. She mourned for Sirius with Ron and Hermione instead of with Harry, who she presumed mourned alone.

Surprisingly, it had been Dean Thomas who had stepped up and made Ginny feel almost normal again. Ginny knew he'd been interested in her since the beginning of the year and had been waiting for him to approach her. She supposed the obvious absence of Harry had given Dean courage. She had been pleasantly surprised to find that Dean Thomas was funny, insightful and intelligent; he had a nice smile that made her feel warm inside. More importantly, he was interested in her, and this apparently did not upset Tom Riddle because Ginny had not had any horrible dreams about Dean dying.

She was still debating about whether or not to be his girlfriend; they had exchanged several letters on the subject, but Ginny was dragging her feet. The situation with Harry seemed more pressing as the days went by, and it was enough to focus on her best friend instead of herself for a change.

She'd left Harry pretty much alone in the week since he'd arrived at the Burrow. Dumbledore had rescued him from the Dursleys' rather quickly this year, and they were all grateful. She had watched as both Hermione and her mother tried to make sure Harry was dealing with Sirius' death, but neither had been able to break the icy shell that surrounded him. He'd made a big speech assuring them he was _fine_ because Sirius wouldn't have wanted him to dwell on things, but Ginny hadn't bought one moment of it.

Something more than Sirius' death was bothering him. Whatever it was, it seemed to weigh on him, bending his shoulders and slowing his gait. He was having nightmares every night — she knew because he'd been put in Percy's old room directly across the hallway from hers. She had tried to go to him a couple of times, but the door had been locked, and he was either refusing to let her in or he couldn't hear her through the nightmares in his head. She'd resisted pounding on the door only because she hadn't wanted to wake up the whole house.

But it was frustrating — watching him and not being able to help him; not even knowing what he needed. She suspected he didn't want to be nagged about it or pushed or prodded. He had several closed-door conversations with Ron and Hermione, but they didn't seem to help much, and Hermione kept looking at Ginny with a desperate fear in her eyes. "_Do something_" the eyes urged, but Ginny could only shrug her shoulders in her own ignorance of how to handle the situation.

It wasn't that she didn't know what he was feeling. She knew all too well the pain and guilt of being responsible for someone's death. But she hadn't loved Michael Corner like Harry had loved Sirius. Hell, she hadn't loved Michael like _she_ had loved Sirius. But to Harry, Sirius had represented freedom, acceptance, his parents…so many things. All of which were now gone. And even though Ginny knew it wasn't Harry's fault that Bellatrix Lestrange had killed her own cousin, she expected the blame he was placing on his actions.

Ginny had come to a conclusion on how to handle things only this morning. The answer had come to her in a bright moment of clarity, and when she sauntered down to breakfast this morning, she'd met Hermione's eyes with a determination that had her friend smiling.

The solution was easy: She wasn't going to do anything.

It sounded simple, but it wasn't. She didn't intend to leave him alone, but she wasn't going to talk a lot or get in his way either. She was going to fly with him on the Quidditch pitch, sit with him on the couch, find a way into his room during his nightmares, all without really talking to him. She would show Harry that she was waiting for him to come to her — that she was there for him whenever he was ready. She wouldn't cover things up by making jokes and pretending nothing was wrong. She would acknowledge his pain and right to silence by joining him in it.

She'd advised Hermione and Ron to stay away for the next few days knowing that her behaviour was probably going to tick Harry off. At this point, even a reaction of anger would be something she could work with. She could understand anger — hell, she was angry herself most of the time.

Ginny stepped out from behind the trees, her brother's broom in one hand and a Quaffle in the other. She mounted the broom and flew up to Harry, forcing him to look her way. She held up the Quaffle with a questioning look, and when he nodded, she threw it at him and backed away, waiting for him to throw it so she could catch it.

They spent the next hour playing catch with the Quaffle. The throws got wilder as they tested each other's flying abilities. It was only when Ginny got tangled in a tree trying to catch the Quaffle Harry had thrown that he called a halt to the game.

"You can go in," he said, trying to catch his breath. He'd been laughing at Ginny's attempts to free herself from the tree. "I'm going to fly a little bit longer."

"Me too," Ginny said. "Sometimes I just like to cruise, you know?"

Harry looked a little irritated, but didn't say anything. Ginny let the Quaffle drop back to the ground, and they flew leisurely for another half hour. Sometimes they flew side-by-side, other times they separated. She showed him the best path to take through the wood,s and they raced each other, dodging limbs and branches at a breakneck speed.

When Harry finally landed, announcing he was going to go in for a shower, Ginny let him go. She flew by herself for another ten minutes before returning to the Burrow. Harry had finished in the loo by the time she got there so she took a quick bath and went searching for him. It didn't take long to find him on the roof outside his room. It was nearly dusk, and she smiled briefly at him before taking a seat on the sun-warmed shingles. They watched the sun set together without saying a word.

When the sun had finally disappeared over the horizon, Harry turned to her with a questioning glance that seemed to ask, "What are you going to do now?" She smiled gently at him again and stood up, brushing off the seat of her pants as she did so. He looked up at her, and she reached down with one hand to run her fingers through his hair. When he tried to jerk his head away from her, she tightened her grip and shook his head a little before letting go and leaving the roof, not sure if she'd made her point or not.

It was 2 a.m. when Ginny was awakened by Harry's nightmare cries from across the hallway. She'd left her doorway cracked so she could hear him, and she tiptoed across the hallway. She was grateful their rooms were on the lowest landing and far away from her parents' room.

Harry didn't know it, but she had borrowed Fred's wand and placed a special charm on his door before they went to bed. He would lock it, but she could always get in.

She opened the door as quickly and silently as possible. Harry was a dark figure writhing on the sheets. Moonlight from the open window shone in and highlighted his sweaty face which was twisted in anguish.

Ginny closed the door behind her, took a deep breath and said sharply, "Harry!"

He stilled, breathing heavily and opened his eyes. Ginny didn't wait for him to realize that she was in the room with him. She stepped closer and handed him a glass of water she'd brought with her before sitting on the edge of the bed. He gulped the water greedily and handed the glass back to her before collapsing on his pillows.

"Thanks," he said gratefully.

"You're welcome."

Harry probably expected her to ask about his nightmare, but she stuck with her new rule of maintaining silence and pulled back the covers on his bed. He looked shocked when she crawled underneath them, but scooted over to make room for her as she settled herself against his side, wrapped an arm around his chest and let her head rest on the pillow with a sigh.

"Comfy?" he asked dryly.

"Very," she yawned. "Now shut it and go back to sleep."

"You're gonna get caught you know," he warned. "If your mum finds you she'll out-screech the ghoul."

"What part of 'shut it' did you not understand?" she retorted. "Besides, I can handle mum."

Harry snorted and rolled over onto his left side. She snuggled up behind him, her breasts flattened against his back, her arm still wrapped around his chest. She could feel his heart still pounding from the nightmare underneath her hand. She didn't ask him if he was all right or what he was thinking about. She just closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Ginny snuck out of Harry's room early the next morning. She'd woken up with her face pressed into Harry's chest and his arms wrapped around her, but had managed to escape before he woke up and things turned awkward. She took a shower and dressed quickly before heading down to breakfast. 

Harry was sitting at the table still dressed in his pyjamas and reading the Daily Prophet while her mother cooked breakfast.

"Morning, Fury," Harry said in a distracted tone from behind his newspaper.

She took a seat next to him and kicked him in the shin for using her nickname. She was pleased when he smiled faintly.

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley pivoted from the stove, her wand poised over a pan of sausages "why do you call Ginny 'Fury?'"

"Because he's a prat," Ginny answered around a mouthful of toast. She glared at Harry.

"Because she's like a never ending tornado of fury," Harry grinned at her mother. "I mean, you've seen her angry, right? Her hair lights up like she's on fire. No one does furious like Fury here."

Ginny put down her toast calmly before punching Harry on the shoulder. Hard.

"Hey!" Harry said, rubbing his shoulder and trying not to laugh at her. "It's an affectionate nickname."

Ginny mumbled under her breath what sort of nickname she'd like to give Harry, but thankfully her mother didn't hear her.

Mrs. Weasley served Harry and Ginny their breakfast before marching up the stairs to drag Ron and the twins out of bed. They ate in silence until Harry cleared his throat.

"Um…thanks for last night. For you know, waking me up and – and staying with me." He kept his eyes firmly on his plate as he spoke.

"You're welcome," Ginny said. She reached over his plate to snag the front page of the Prophet and snapped it open to read the day's headlines.

"It's funny though," Harry said conversationally. "I could have sworn that I locked my door before going to bed."

"Really?" Ginny said sweetly. "I didn't have any trouble getting in."

Harry gave a grunt and they finished their breakfast in silence until Ron, Fred and George clumped down the stairs and entered the kitchen still rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

Breakfast quickly turned into a noisy affair, and Ginny watched out of the corner of her eye as Harry carefully played his part. He was pretending to be okay, but she appeared to be the only one who noticed it. Even Hermione, who had come down to breakfast already dressed and ready for the day, seemed to be relieved that Harry was laughing and joking with Ron and the twins. She shot Ginny a grateful look, but Ginny pretended not to notice.

Ginny spent the rest of the day in relative silence with Harry. They barely spoke as they flew in the Quidditch pitch, went for a walk into the village with Ron and Hermione, worked on homework essays and peeled potatoes for her mother. It was only when they were degnoming the garden before dinner that Harry approached her.

"Tell me, Fury," he said as he bent down to grab a gnome that was hiding underneath a bush, "what exactly is it you're hoping to accomplish?"

Ginny eyed him speculatively, wondering how far she could push this conversation. "I'm not sure I know what you mean." She snagged a gnome that had been trying to sneak past her and spun it around three times before letting it sail over the garden wall.

"Come off it, Ginny," Harry said. "I know you've got some sort of plan going — I can see that scheming glint in your eye. I just can't figure out what it is yet. So why you don't just save us this silly guessing game and tell me what's going on?"

"It's not a game," she snapped at him. "I'm not doing anything."

"Please," he scoffed. "How stupid do you think I am? I know you're up to something."

Ginny shrugged and went back to degnoming. "Well, if you think you know me so well, then why don't you tell me what I'm doing? Take a guess."

Harry stood up straight, his hands on his jean-clad hips, and Ginny fought back a laugh. It looked eerily like he was getting ready to chastise a child.

"This is about Sirius. I think you privately agree with everyone else," he said, finally. "Even though you won't say, you don't think I've dealt with Sirius' death and you're hanging out with me hoping that I'll eventually have some big breakdown and you'll be there to catch me."

Damn. Ginny thought she'd been more subtle. Oh well, no point in denying it at this point.

She raised one eyebrow. "Is it working?"

Harry's face turned into a scowl. "How many times do I have to tell you people, I'm bloody _fine_."

Ginny raised the other eyebrow. "I'm not just 'people,' Harry. Who do you think you're trying to fool? You're not _fine_."

With a low growl, Harry spun around to grab a gnome that was just about to bite his ankle and hurled it over the wall. "I AM FINE!" He shouted as he let the gnome fly. "Why won't anyone believe me!"

"Because it's not normal!" Ginny shouted back. "It's not normal for you to be fine. Sirius is dead-"

"I KNOW SIRIUS IS DEAD, GINNY! Why does everyone begin every sentence that way? I watched him die!"

Harry's face was red but Ginny was pretty sure it wasn't from the exertion of degnoming. Good — finally some anger.

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and said stubbornly, "Sirius died and you think it's your fault. It's not."

"That's it?" he asked disbelievingly. "Those are your words of wisdom? 'It's not' Wow, thanks, Ginny — I feel so much better!"

"What else do you want me to say, Harry? It _isn't_ your fault. But I know what it's like to lose someone and blame yourself for it so I know there is little I can say to make you feel better."

"So what is this all about then?" Harry asked, clearly frustrated. "Why have you been my little shadow?"

"I'm not waiting for you to break down, Harry," Ginny said gently. "I'm just trying to make a point."

"What point would that be?" he asked wearily.

She looked down at the ground and scuffed the toe of her sneaker in the dirt. "I just…I wanted to show you that I'm here for you…like you've been there for me and I thought well…that you might need me..."

Harry sighed and ran a hand down his face. "I don't know what I need, Ginny. I feel like I'm drowning and have forgotten how to swim. I can't sleep, I have nightmares every night. And the person I would normally talk to about such things is dead — because I was so stupid. If I'd listened to Hermione or to you, Sirius might still be alive."

"Maybe talking about Sirius, about what happened, would help with the nightmares," Ginny offered.

A stony mask fell over Harry's face. "I'm not talking about the nightmares, Ginny. So don't even ask."

Ginny hid her surprise and nodded. "Fine, but you know that Sirius wouldn't have wanted you to be this way. He really would have wanted you to move on."

"How can I move on, Ginny?" asked Harry bleakly. He looked up at her and for the first time she could see the depth of his pain. His eyes were haunted, and they had dark circles underneath them. "Sirius is gone."

"I…I feel empty," he said. "Like there's nothing left of me. I'm so tired." His shoulders slumped and his body sagged.

Ginny felt her heart break. She stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder. "Then hold onto me," she said urgently. "If there's nothing left, you can hold onto me until you find it again."

"I'm tired, Ginny," Harry's voice cracked. "I'm tired of fighting."

"We keep going," Ginny made her voice hard. "We keep going until we're dead or there's nothing left to fight."

"Why?" he whispered.

Ginny gripped both shoulders in her hands. "Because there's still some good in this world, Harry…and it's worth fighting for." She shook him a little. "And if you ever tell anyone I said something so monumentally sappy I'll cut off your bollocks."

That made him smile, but it still wasn't enough. She lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the lips. She pecked him once and then again, pressing harder this time — forcing him to respond to her. He pressed back for only a moment and then jerked his head away, confusion and despair warring together on his features. She wasn't sure what he saw in her eyes, but he backed away, causing her hands to drop back to her sides.

"No," he said in a low voice. "You can't kiss this away for me, Ginny." He shoved his hands into his pockets and took another step backwards. "If there is any good left then I can't seem to find it. I'm sorry."

He spun on his heel and walked slowly away from the garden towards the woods behind the house, his head bent.

Ginny let him go. She tried to ignore the whispers of Tom in her head, but even she wondered why Harry couldn't find enough good in _her_ to keep him going.

For the next week, Harry remained more aloof than ever. Ginny put aside answering Dean's questions about their relationship one more time and shoved back the hurt she'd felt when Harry had left her in the garden a few days earlier. Deciding she had expected too much of him, she continued her silent campaign of support. A few kisses between friends didn't make everything better, and she could hardly expect their friendship to be the sole sustainer of his will to live.

But still, she could not help but feel as if she'd been rejected. She had told him to hold onto her, to hold onto their friendship, and he'd said it wasn't enough. It hurt because sometimes Harry had been all she'd been able to hold onto, and he had always been enough. Why wasn't she enough for him?

The hurt she felt dissipated whenever they were alone, and Harry dropped the mask he kept up around everyone else. Then she could clearly see the pain of the burden he carried. She hadn't broached the subject, but she was certain more than ever that Harry was dealing with something other than Sirius' death. He'd apparently quarrelled with Dumbledore. Ginny had her suspicions, but she hadn't dared to say anything yet.

Things came to head at the end of the week. Harry was like a taut string waiting to be snapped, and Ginny had finally lost her patience with him. She joined him on the roof outside his room where he often went to watch the sunset. They sat in silence well after sundown and Ginny found she could not bear the silence any longer.

"You know, the Daily Prophet has been saying you are the 'Chosen One,' she began firmly. "Mum, Dad, everyone — they all say its rubbish. But I -" she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "I think you're more important than they know." She hugged her knees together and spun around on her bottom to face his profile.

"Anyone who's got a prophecy written about him has got to be," she said softly. "Whatever your fate or your destiny is, it's tied up with Voldemort somehow. And if you refuse to face it, to accept it, all that's great and good in this world will be gone."

"I'm not ignoring anything," Harry said through gritted teeth. She watched as his hands, highlighted by the light streaming in from the bedroom window, clenched into fists.

"No? Then why don't you tell me what's going on?" Ginny challenged. "I'm not stupid, Harry. Something else is going on."

"Of course something is going on, Ginny," he snapped back. "My godfather is dead."

"Something more than that," Ginny insisted. "Why won't you just tell me?"

"I don't want to talk about this." Harry stood up and climbed back into the window. She followed him and darted around him to stand in front of the door, her chin raised defiantly.

Harry stopped a few feet away from her, his jaw working furiously. The look in his eyes didn't scare her. She'd seen worse.

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me, Harry," she said quietly. "Tell me what is going on. We'll find a way to fix it, I promise."

"You can't fix this, Ginny," Harry said sharply. "No one can."

"We can," she insisted. "If you'd just talk to me-"

"I don't need to talk, Ginny! I don't want to talk! Not to you, not to Hermione, not to anyone!" Harry was shouting now, the strain of the last few weeks finally snapping his temper. "Just leave me alone!"

"Why?!" she shot back. "So you can wallow in your own guilt and misery! Not likely! You need me around to kick some sense into you!"

"I don't need you!" Harry roared.

His words stung and Ginny recoiled visibly. He seemed so certain that Ginny wondered if he'd ever really needed her. She had always thought they needed each other, but maybe she'd been the only one. Maybe he'd been humouring her this whole time.

"Fine," she choked out. "I'm not enough for you. I get that. But someone somewhere has to be enough to help you, Harry. I just hope you find them before you push them all away."

Harry's face looked immediately stricken as if he'd just realized the effect of his words, but Ginny found she didn't much care. She just wanted to get out there and retrieve what was left of her dignity. She felt behind her for the doorknob and wrenched it open. She didn't stop to look back nor did she trust herself to speak again. She slammed the door behind her, convincing herself that she'd imagined Harry's hoarse voice saying, "Ginny, wait."

She walked quickly across the hall to her bedroom and shut the door behind her, before she slumped against the wood and slid down to sit on the floor. She brought her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead against them. She'd been fooling herself, probably for a very long time.

_Why would Harry Potter ever need you? _Tom whispered in her mind. _He's stronger and better than you and always has been. He's not tainted like you are. _

Tom was making a lot of sense lately, Ginny thought dryly. She screwed up everything. People died around her and if they hadn't yet Tom would probably kill them eventually. Even her family was a little scared of her. Why indeed would Harry need _her_? She couldn't even help him when it was obvious he needed help. She wouldn't have been so mad if she hadn't been so sure _she_ needed _him_.

_I am the only one who will ever need you, my dear. _

Harry knew he had messed things up in a particularly dramatic way. Ginny had been only trying to help him, her usual perceptiveness cutting through his bullshit, and instead of confiding in her like he longed to do, he'd pushed her away.

Except this time he had pushed her too far. She'd been quiet and distant the next day at breakfast and by lunchtime, Harry was dismayed to find that she had left for a weeklong visit to stay with Colin. He tamped down the jealousy he felt at the thought of someone else, even Colin Creevey, consoling Ginny after he'd hurt her feelings. But Ginny was tough, and she probably wouldn't need consoling. In fact, she'd probably punch Colin if he tried.

He cursed himself for forgetting that, despite her tough exterior, Ginny was insecure on the inside. He supposed he was the only she'd allowed to see just how vulnerable she was, and this made what he'd said even worse.

Because _of_ _course_ he needed her. Who else could ever understand? He'd wanted to tell her about the damn prophecy from day one, but he'd been afraid. Talking about it made it more real, and he'd been content to suffer alone. But then Ginny had started following him around, flying with him, watching the sunsets with him — all without saying a word. It'd been damned annoying, but only because he knew she was right. He'd found himself wanting to crack — to tell her everything, and this had only made him angrier. So he'd lashed out at her, and it had made things worse.

Now she was gone, and he couldn't even apologize. If he'd been hard to get along with before, the weight of the Sirius' death, the prophecy and Ginny's absence combined to make him downright unbearable. He hadn't realized how much he depended on her being there until she was gone. The Weasleys were beginning to feel the strain of putting up with his moods — he'd actually caught Arthur and Molly whispering furiously at each other in the kitchen that morning and even Ron and Hermione had banded together in the wake of Harry's mood swings.

It turned out that Ginny had been right all along. He didn't need people asking him if he was all right all the time in order to feel cared for — he had only needed her silent presence.

The week passed by at an agonizingly slow pace. Harry got little sleep between the nightmares about Sirius dying and Voldemort possessing Ginny or himself. He'd never been so scared in his life as when he'd watched Voldemort take her over; he'd seen the temptation in her eyes, and it unnerved him. He'd also seen the pain she was going through and as he'd just been through it himself, he had known what it felt like.

Harry discovered that he was rather ashamed of his behaviour. He'd been rude to the Weasleys, and pushed Ron, Hermione and, especially Ginny, away — when he'd promised that he would always be there for her. He was aware of how Dean Thomas had stepped up to comfort Ginny in his absence, and even though he wasn't quite sure how he felt about this development, he was glad that _someone_ had been there.

Saturday finally rolled around and Harry woke up feeling refreshed after a nightmare-free night. He dressed quickly and bounded down the stairs to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was making breakfast.

"When does Ginny get home?" he asked casually, sitting down at the table.

"She got home earlier this morning, dear," Mrs. Weasley answered distractedly. "She ate at Colin's house before she came and went for a fly."

Harry didn't wait to explain to her where he was going. He sprang out of his seat and rushed for the back door, his feet breaking into a run towards the Quidditch pitch. He slowed when he got to the edge of the grass marked off for the pitch and spotted Ginny looping lazily in the sky. He thought briefly about grabbing his Firebolt from the shed but contented himself to wait for her on the ground. He settled himself on one corner of the field, propping his arms up on his bent knees.

Eventually Ginny descended and walked slowly towards him. He could tell by the look on her face that she didn't really want to talk to him but wouldn't or couldn't ignore his presence. She stopped in front of him and looked down at him, waiting for him to speak.

They eyed each other for several minutes. Harry was unsure how to begin, and Ginny was certainly not going to make the first move. He watched as his continued silence convinced her that he had nothing good to say and her face turned suddenly harder, secure in her belief that he didn't need her or their friendship.

He panicked when he realized she was turning away to leave. "No, wait!" He pushed himself up to his knees; one hand reached out to grab her wrist. She looked back at him angrily and opened her mouth to speak.

"Wait," he repeated. "Please, Ginny — I just -" his voice faltered, and he looked down at the ground. He had no idea how to begin. He felt a tug and looked up to see her trying to free her wrist, but he tightened his grip and pulled her closer while moving on his knees. He let go of her wrist, but only to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her even closer. He rested his forehead just beneath her breasts, his face buried in her stomach.

And he inhaled.

He had always loved the way Ginny smelled. It was flowers, treacle tart and broomsticks. He was so busy inhaling that he didn't immediately notice her struggle to get away. He tightened his grip and held on.

"I'm sorry," said Harry, his voice muffled against her belly. "I didn't mean it. Of course I need you, Ginny. I need you so much. You've no idea how much…" his voice broke and he inhaled again, trying to stop the lump in his throat from surfacing. The past weeks had been too much, and he had gone too long trying to grieve on his own.

"I want to tell you everything," he said, "but it's hard to talk about it. It makes it more real somehow and I'm not sure I'm strong enough to deal with this."

He felt her small hand come down hesitantly to run her fingers through his hair.

"I don't think anyone could be strong enough to deal with what you've gone through," she said finally. "But, Harry -" her fingers twisted in his hair, and she pulled up his head so she look down at him. "That's what you have friends for, you twit. To help you deal with things."

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Ginny fell to her knees and they embraced, his arms around her tiny waist, her arms around his neck; Harry's head on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in parseltongue. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, that I pushed you away, and that I let you think I didn't need you."

"You have to let me be there for you too," she said fiercely. "This isn't a one-way friendship."

He nodded. "I know, I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven," she grumped. "But will you tell us what's going on now?"

Harry nodded again. He buried his face in her neck trying to replace the words of the prophecy Dumbledore had revealed to him with the scent of her skin and the feel of her hair surrounding him.

But no matter how hard he tried, the words still swirled around in his brain. They tortured him while he was forced to think about what he would eventually have to do.

'_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…'_

Harry finished reciting the prophecy for Ron, Hermione and Ginny and held his breath as he waited for their reactions. "Well," Ron swallowed. "I guess we'd better figure out how you're going to defeat him, aren't we, mate?"

"We're with you, Harry. We'll help you," Hermione insisted. She smiled bravely at him.

He smiled at both of them, grateful for their never ending support. "Thanks, guys."

Ginny had remained oddly silent, and when he looked past Ron and Hermione's shoulders, he saw her standing as if she was frozen in place, her eyes locked on his. She had a hard, blazing look on her face as she stared at him, and he could almost feel the force of her gaze searching his innermost thoughts.

Ron and Hermione turned to look at her, both clearly waiting for her to say something encouraging. She remained silent though, her eyes focused on Harry. Ron shifted uncomfortably and turned back to Harry.

"Er…wonder what it means though? 'The power he knows not?'"

Harry reluctantly pulled his eyes from Ginny's. Ginny eventually turned away from the discussion and stood stiffly, facing the window. Her arms were crossed protectively over her chest and Harry wondered, not for the first time in his life, what she was thinking? He was a little surprised that she hadn't said something, but then he wasn't sure what he would have said if someone had dropped a bomb on him like he'd just dropped on the three of them.

Mrs. Weasley called them to dinner just as Harry was getting weary of analyzing the prophecy. He sat next to Ginny at the table, but she remained unresponsive, even when he hooked his foot around her ankle. The fact that she didn't push him away and allowed him to capture and hold her bare foot between his own reassured him a little bit, but then she disappeared after the meal and he didn't see her the rest of the night. He refused to ask Hermione where she was, even though he caught her shooting him sympathetic glances a few times.

It wasn't until he was almost asleep that night in his room that he heard the door open and soft feet pad across the floor to his bed. He wasn't surprised, nor was he nervous about who was entering his room. Ginny was the only one who could get past the wards he'd secretly placed on the door. He was more impressed by her than irritated because he couldn't figure out how she'd done it.

He smiled sleepily to himself when he felt the mattress dip and small arms slide around his waist from behind. A petite form pressed against his back and hugged him, her face pressed between his shoulder blades, her legs tucking themselves naturally behind his own.

"Harry," she breathed. "Are you awake?"

"I am now, Fury," he said. "Did you want something?"

"Yes," she whispered. She shifted so that her lips hovered behind his ear, her warm breath raising goose bumps on his neck.

"I just wanted to tell you that I know you are going to beat that bastard." She fell silent. Then: "Do you know how I know this?"

He shook his head slowly.

"Well, it's not because that damn prophecy says you can, although it does say that if you read it carefully. I know you're going to do it because you are _you_. You're Harry Potter, the good guy, and you deserve to win. And because if anyone gets to wipe that smug smile off that snake's face it ought to be you. You can do this because you're strong enough — because it's the kind of man you are. Not because of some silly prophecy made by that bat Trelawney."

A warmth washed over Harry as her words sunk in. Ron and Hermione's reactions to the prophecy had been perfect--he couldn't have asked for a better show of support or for better friends. Friends who were willing to help him fight Voldemort. But neither of them had gotten what Harry himself had only just understood: He didn't want to beat Voldemort because it was written in the stars or prophesized before his birth. He wanted to kill him because the git deserved to die, and because he'd taken enough from Harry already. Even if there hadn't been a prophecy -- Harry would still want to take the bastard down.

Only Ginny had understood this. Once again, she'd demonstrated that she knew him better than he knew himself.

He turned around so that he was facing her. He lifted a hand and brushed his knuckles across her cheek. A shaft of moonlight shining through the open window highlighted her face, and he could see the same hard, blazing look on her face that had been there earlier in the evening.

"Stay."

He meant it to be a request, but it came out like a demand. He didn't want to be alone right now.

She nodded, the hard look on her face being replaced by a look that was almost…tender.

"I'll stay," she confirmed.

He sighed and wrapped one arm around her waist as they both settled into his pillow. She shifted around a few moments, trying to get the blankets spread over both of them.

"Comfy?" he asked, once she had settled against him, her head next to his on the pillow. He could feel his eyes drooping heavily.

"Yeah," she yawned.

She said something else, but Harry didn't hear her before his eyes closed all the way. And he slept.

Ginny awoke slowly, trapped in the comfortable haze between sleeping and waking. She felt safe and protected and knew that the immeasurable strength wrapped around her was Harry. They'd gone to bed facing each other with Harry's arm resting lightly around her waist. At some point in the night, he had pulled her closer and wrapped both arms around her. His face was nuzzled in her neck, the deep breaths he was taking an indication that he was fast asleep. She smiled to herself and pressed her cheek back onto the crown of his head, his messy hair tickling her nose. She could feel his mouth pressed against the skin of her neck, his chin resting on her collarbone and the soft puffs of air as he exhaled through his nose.

She dozed for a few more minutes, content to let Harry hold her, but the need to stretch her cramped limbs and visit the loo eventually overwhelmed her and she opened her eyes.

And looked straight into the face of Molly Weasley.

Ginny had no idea how long her mother had been standing there watching her daughter and practically-adopted son snuggle in the bed, but if the expression on her face was any indication it had been long enough. Ginny knew the wards Harry had placed on his door expired every morning at 9 o'clock so her mother must have come upstairs to wake them for breakfast. She was sure the last thing her mum had expected was to find them in bed together.

She met her mother's eyes with what she hoped was a defiant expression and tugged at the iron-like grip Harry had around her. "Harry, wake up," she muttered. "C'mon, let me go."

Harry's only response was to pull her even closer into his body and nuzzle further into her neck. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "Just five more minutes, Gin," and his steady breathing returned.

Exasperated and now a little embarrassed to be caught in such a situation by her mother, Ginny gripped Harry firmly by the shoulders and shook him. Hard.

"Hey!" he protested, lifting his head from her neck and looking up at her blearily. "What's the big idea?"

"Harry, let go of me," she said urgently. "We have to get up."

"Okay, okay," he grumbled, loosening his hold on her and turning over to grab his glasses from the nearby nightstand. "But you didn't have to shake me…"

His voice trailed off when he put his glasses on and saw who was standing over them, her lips pressed into a thin line and her hands solidly on her hips.

"M - Mrs. Weasley," he stammered. He sat up so fast he nearly threw Ginny off the bed. "Ginny and I were just -- well, it's not what it looks like-"

"I expect both of you downstairs to breakfast in twenty minutes," Mrs. Weasley interrupted icily. "And we will be having a discussion about this," she waved a hand towards their still-partially entwined figures on the bed, "afterwards."

She stepped past the bed and strode out the door, pointedly leaving it open behind her.

Ginny struggled with the covers and sat up next to Harry. They looked at each other and swallowed nervously.

"Well, shit," Ginny finally said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Shit."

Breakfast was a quiet affair as neither Harry nor Ginny felt much like talking. Ginny was too busy planning reasonable arguments in response to what she was sure would be a scathing lecture from her mother. Harry, she suspected, was trying to figure out how to make it through the rest of the day without being kicked out of the house. He didn't know her mother as well as she did -- Molly Weasley wouldn't kick him out. She might make him sorry he lived there, but she would never kick Harry out.

The meal ended too soon, and Molly set a curious Ron and Hermione to cleaning up the dishes before she stalked into the living room. Harry and Ginny followed meekly behind her. After they'd entered the room, Molly took out her wand and cast an imperturbable charm on the door and windows. She pointed her finger at the couch which Ginny and Harry sunk onto, and she stood facing them, hands back on her hips.

"Now," she began dangerously. "Which one of you is going to tell me the truth about what I saw upstairs? How long has this been going on?"

Ginny took a deep breath to begin, but Harry beat her to it. "Ginny was just helping me, Mrs. Weasley. Sometimes, I - I have nightmares." He swallowed heavily, and Ginny could tell the admission had cost him.

"She can hear me - me screaming and comes in to wake me up. Sometimes we just fall asleep talking, that's all, I swear."

Ginny nodded and looked back at her mother. "That's all it is, Mum, honest."

Molly looked sceptical. "You two seemed awfully familiar with each other," she said harshly. "The way you were sleeping-" she broke off and flushed, but Ginny couldn't tell it was from anger or embarrassment. "What on earth were you thinking?" she demanded. "Keeping your relationship a secret from the rest of your family?"

Harry and Ginny looked at each other in confusion.

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry began doubtfully. "Ginny and I are just friends."

"We're not in a relationship, Mum," Ginny piped up. "We're just really good friends."

"Good friends don't sleep together in the same bed!" her mother shrieked back at them. "You expect me to believe that you two are not together? I saw you!"

"Honest, Mum," Ginny insisted. "We're not dating."

"Really, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said firmly. "Ginny and I are just friends. Really good friends," he stressed.

Molly apparently believed him because she looked shocked and took a step back. "I don't understand," she said. "I saw you — you were wrapped around each other. What kind of friends behave that way?"

Harry hesitated so Ginny took the opportunity to explain. "Mum, Harry and I well…we just," she shrugged, "we're really close."

"We've, uh, we've got a lot in common," Harry added. Ginny could almost see him willing her mother to understand the thread that connected them.

Her mother lifted a hand and rubbed at her forehead in clear frustration. "I still don't understand."

"We both still have nightmares," Ginny said abruptly. "It helps to share them -- with each other."

Molly gazed at them searchingly and then slowly nodded. "Okay, I think I get it. But Ginny, Harry, sleeping together like that -- it's not appropriate."

They both nodded.

"We're sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. "It was an accident and won't happen again." Molly took a deep breath and pressed a hand to her chest.

"Okay," she said quietly. "Ginny, I'll be discussing this with your father. I'm sure he'll want to talk to both of you."

Harry stiffened, and Ginny tried not to roll her eyes. "I understand, Mum."

"And both of you will be helping me around the house today. Harry, you're to degnome the garden. Ginny, you can start by gathering the dirty laundry from all the bedroom hampers."

As far as punishments went, Ginny figured they'd gotten off pretty easy. After Harry had finished the garden, the two of them had to clean and organize the attic. While Harry scrubbed the bathroom, Ginny returned downstairs to fold the laundry she'd washed earlier.

She was just folding the bath towels in the kitchen when Harry came downstairs. He leaned against the doorjamb and watched her. Although she knew he was there, Ginny was lost in her thoughts and didn't speak right away. The conversation they'd had earlier with her mother kept running through her head. Her mother had been so _certain _that Harry and Ginny were a couple. Was that what everyone else saw when they looked at them? Was that what had kept Dean from making his move all year?

"Do you think my mother is right?" she asked suddenly.

"Right about what?"

"About us," she gestured between them with a washcloth. "About our friendship not being normal."

Harry sensed this conversation was more important than Ginny's simple question. It hadn't surprised him all that much when Mrs. Weasley had assumed they were a couple. He didn't know anyone else who behaved like he and Ginny did. So no, they weren't exactly normal.

"I think our friendship is normal for us," he said carefully.

Her forehead wrinkled at the obtuse answer. "What does that mean?" she probed.

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. But Ginny, you know that we are," he paused, searching for the right word, "unusual."

"Okay," she conceded. "But why?"

Harry didn't have an answer for that. Something, perhaps an answer, was swirling on the edge of his brain, but it wouldn't register. He just knew that she was…important.

"I don't know," he said finally. "But you're my best friend."

"It's more than that," she said quietly. "Isn't it?"

He remained silent. He wasn't ready to have this conversation with her. Not because the idea scared the hell out of him, but because he was certain that if he pushed, even a little, Ginny would run the opposite direction and they would never get back what they had. He'd rather have her this way than none at all. Truthfully, he wasn't sure he and Ginny could handle much more.

"It has to be, doesn't it? I mean, you're best friends with Hermione, and you don't sleep with her. Why are _we _so intense?"

Harry felt like he was standing on a precipice. The trouble was that if he jumped, he wasn't sure he could ever get back up. He didn't want things to change, but he still wanted more. It was a paradox.

"We're connected," he said hesitatingly. "On a deeper level. I don't know why it's always so intense between us, but I think that's just who we are. It's how we work. I couldn't be that way with Hermione because, well…we work in a different way. But you, Ginny, you're different. You're more. You get me, more than I get myself."

He walked towards her, took the towels from her hands and set them back down on the table. He ran his hands down her arms and grasped her hands. "Know what I mean?"

She nodded slowly. "Maybe. I'm just…confused." "

Why? Why now? We've been close for a few years now; you're just now questioning the oddity of our relationship? "

"It's just that…well, I hadn't realized how other people saw us. It's a shock. I guess I've never thought past it."

"How is that possible?" Harry asked, amused. "We've made out for bloody sakes."

Ginny blushed. "You promised not to bring that up anymore."

"Sorry," Harry grinned. "It's just that I've learned to laugh about it."

"Well, I haven't," she thumped him on the chest.

He captured her hand and pulled her closer. Leaning down, he brushed his lips across her cheekbone. He pulled away and looked down at her. He kept her hand on his chest with one hand and snaked an arm around her waist.

Ginny looked up at him, confusion written on her face. Harry struggled with himself internally. He could very easily show her what he suspected could exist between them. It would be simple enough to demonstrate the attraction that always simmered beneath the surface. But they had been down this route before, and it hadn't turned out well. His hands cupped her face.

"What do you want me to say, Fury?"

She swallowed. "I just want to know what you want."

Harry knew he had to lie. He could tell she was scared enough by this conversation. What would she say if she knew the secret desires he harboured? He had to lie to her. He'd been lying to himself since his third year, this shouldn't be any different.

"I am happy with the way things are right now," he said carefully. "I don't want anything more than you have to give." Okay, so that wasn't exactly a lie.

Ginny nodded and stepped back to the table where she resumed folding the laundry. "Okay, great," she said.

Harry let his hands drop back to his sides. "Are you happy? With us?"

"Of course," she said. "You're my best friend." She smiled at him, but he fancied he could see something in her eyes that he didn't understand. He massaged the nape of her neck and kissed her on the temple.

"So, it's agreed then," he murmured. "We're best friends, who have this weird, odd friendship that allows us to sleep together, kiss occasionally, and fight like cats and dogs."

"Right," she smiled again, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Harry tossed and turned that night, trying to find a comfortable position in which to sleep. The conversation with Ginny kept running through his head. Had he done the right thing? He WAS happy with the way things were, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't often need something more. He'd been able to tide himself over with the occasional friendly kiss and hug, but now that Mrs. Weasley was on to them, the amount of affection he showed Ginny would be scrutinized.

He threw back the covers and sighed loudly. His mind was going in circles and he couldn't get the look on Ginny's face out of his head. Making up his mind, he got out of bed and silently made his way across the hall to Ginny's room.

He opened the door slowly, flinching when it creaked a little. Hermione was in a bed on the other side of the room, and he didn't want to wake her. He padded in his bare feet to Ginny's bed and sat down on the edge of her mattress. She rolled over onto her back and he wasn't surprised to find her wide awake.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey," she whispered back.

"I couldn't sleep," he confessed.

"Me either."

"Budge up."

"What if Hermione wakes up?" she hissed, but she moved over anyway and lifted the covers for him to slide underneath.

"She won't," he assured her. He settled himself on her pillow and she lay down next to him, her head pillowed on his arm.

"My mum is probably going to catch us again," she whispered.

"I won't stay," he whispered. "I just wanted to tell you something."

"What?"

Harry faced her on his side. "I've been thinking about our conversation this afternoon. And I'd like you to ask me that question again."

"Why?"

"Because I have a better answer," Harry said. "Now ask me again."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Fine. Why is our friendship so different?"

Harry ran his fingers across her cheekbone. "Because you and I -- we fit. Like puzzle pieces. We understand things about each other that others can't understand."

Ginny nodded slowly. "Yeah. I get that. But what about the kissing thing? I don't kiss any of my other friends. Don't you think that part is weird?"

She shifted so that her back was pressed to his front, her head tucked underneath his chin. Harry wrapped his arm around her waist and spooned her from behind.

"You're a part of me, Gin," he said directly into her ear. "I don't know when it happened or why, but I can't imagine what life would be like without you. And if I'm affectionate with you and can't stop myself from touching you it's because you're my other half, and I can't live without you."

"Oh, Harry," she sighed. She turned her head and kissed him on the jaw. "Thank you."

"Does that answer your question?" he said, nuzzling her nose with his.

"Yes," she whispered. "But it still hasn't explained why _I_ need _you_ so much."

Harry's heart lifted. It wasn't often that Ginny admitted to needing him. Usually it was the other way around.

"I'm scared, Harry," Ginny said. "Scared that we aren't going to make it through this thing with Voldemort. Tom -- he shows me things -- horrible things."

Harry's fingers tightened on her hip. "What sort of things?"

"Things that will happen if Voldemort takes over," she admitted.

Her admission was so matter-of-fact that it startled him, and he was reminded once again that he wasn't the only one with a constant connection with evil. Ginny put up with Tom more than she ever talked about.

"They won't come true, Fury," he whispered. "I promise." He hugged her tighter and buried his face in her hair. "I promise. I'll get him."

"We'll get him," she corrected. "We'll get him together."

He nodded, and they were silent for a few minutes. Then: "I'm scared to death of living without you," Ginny said in an almost inaudible tone. "Why is that?"

Harry couldn't believe she really didn't know or at least suspect the depth of her feelings for him. She was more clueless than Ron had been about Hermione.

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" he said. "You're mad about me."

Ginny giggled and quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. She lifted her head slightly to make sure that Hermione hadn't stirred. When no movement showed on the other side of the room, she rolled over to face Harry. His hand settled back on her hip. Ginny leaned forward and kissed him softly before pulling back and smiling brilliantly at him.

"I AM mad about you, you git. Now go get in your own bed before we get in trouble again."

"One more kiss," Harry wheedled, grinning at her. He rolled onto his back and tugged her with him until she was laying half on top of him. She looked down at him, her hair falling on either side of his head.

"Prat," she whispered.

Harry slid a hand around her neck and caressed her jaw line with his thumb.

"C'mere," he whispered. He tugged her head down and captured her lips with his own. The kiss was soft, sweet and short, but Harry felt it down to his toes.

Ginny pulled back and gazed at him with an unreadable look in her eyes. She looked confused again and Harry wondered if he'd gone too far.

"Harry-" she began in a whisper, but she was cut off by a loud huff from across the room.

"Excuse me," Hermione said in a loud voice. She sat up and glared in their direction. "This is all very sweet but do you think you could save it for oh, I don't know, DAYLIGHT!" She flopped back down on the bed and pulled the covers over her head.

Ginny snorted and pushed herself off of Harry who got up and walked to the door. Before he opened it, he turned back to say goodnight. Ginny was sitting up in her bed, watching him go. The moonlight was shining through the window and it highlighted her face. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen her look so beautiful.

"'Night, Fury," he whispered.

"Good night, Harry."

Harry left, shutting the door firmly behind him. He snuck back to his room and crawled back under his covers. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

The next day, Ginny agreed to be Dean Thomas' girlfriend.


	17. Chapter 17 Apprenticing with Electricity

Chapter 17

Ginny finished putting the Quidditch balls away in the school shed after the first practice of the school year and hurried through the rain back to the school. Harry was waiting for her, his black hair dripping with rain as he leaned casually against the wall just inside the door to the castle.

"Thanks for helping me," she glared at him. "It went much faster doing that all by myself."

Harry grinned at her. "You lost the bet fair and square, Fury. 'S'not my fault you couldn't find a Snitch if it pecked you on the ear."

Ginny grumbled something unintelligible, but fell into step beside him. A better idea soon occurred to her, and she went behind him, placing two hands on his shoulders to make him stop. When he'd stilled, she hopped up on his back, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

"You can make up for it by carrying me back to the common room," she said happily.

Harry huffed, but grabbed her thighs and hoisted her up farther. "All the way back to the common room? I'm not sure I have the strength."

Ginny reached down and twisted his nipple. He yelped, reached back and pinched her on the bum.

"Okay, okay!" she shrieked. "Truce!"

Harry laughed and turned right towards Gryffindor Tower. Ginny hugged him tighter.

"It feels like we haven't seen each other since school started," she said into his ear. "What's up with that?"

Harry shrugged. "You've been dating Dean. I didn't think he'd really want me hanging around."

Ginny stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry sighed. "Ginny, you have to admit, any boyfriend you have isn't going to appreciate the way…the way we are."

Ginny found herself agreeing with Harry in spite of the protest welling up inside of her. She'd known that dating Dean would put a barrier between her and Harry. Perhaps that was why she'd done it. The last conversation they had about their relationship had scared her more than she had been willing to admit at the time.

She shifted her weight when Harry began to climb the stairs. "Want me to get down?" she teased.

"No," he said, curtly. "I like having you here."

Ginny's heart fell. "Oh, Harry," she whispered. She buried her face in the back of his neck and took a deep breath. What had she done?

When he reached the top of the stairs she said, "Stop for a minute." He stopped, and she slid down his back. When he turned around to face her, she looked up at him, biting on her lower lip.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Harry's brow wrinkled. "For what?"

"For dating Dean?"

Harry smiled and put his hands on her shoulders. "Ginny, you're allowed to have a boyfriend. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Yeah, but it's changed us. I don't want that to happen. Especially after the fuss I raised when you dated Cho."

He stepped closer and slid his arms around her shoulders and down her spine to rest lightly on the small of her back. Ginny tried to suppress both the shiver it caused and the knowledge that Dean's hands on her did not cause such a reaction.

"How long did you think we could last like that?" he asked her quietly. "It was a nice, little bubble we were in but you're the one who agreed to go out with him. He couldn't handle it Ginny. He wouldn't like it."

"You make our friendship sound wrong," she argued.

"Oh, Fury," he sighed. She clutched his Quidditch t-shirt in her fists and Harry tightened his arms around her. Ginny tried to ignore the safety she felt in his embrace and pressed her forehead to his chest.

"It isn't wrong," he assured her. "It's just different. You know that. I've tried to stay away because I don't want to interfere or for Dean to get the wrong idea."

Ginny nodded slowly. "Fine. But just because I'm dating someone doesn't mean we can't hang out." She wasn't going to beg him, but she felt a little panicked at the thought of not having Harry around.

"Okay," he smiled down at her. "We'll both work on it."

She lifted her chin. "Kiss me," she pleaded. Ginny knew she shouldn't ask, but she needed the contact with him – even though it had been her decision to put distance between them.

He lowered his head, but stopped a hairsbreadth away from her lips. "Dean wouldn't like it," he whispered.

"Sod him," she whispered and closed the distance between them. The kiss was different than the friendly kisses they'd shared in the past. Ginny had always tried not to analyze those kisses -- had always accepted them for whatever they were. But this kiss – this kiss was different.

Harry pressed her against him with a moan and moved his lips against hers like he'd been starving for just a taste. Her hands reached up and fisted in his hair as she pressed back. Kissing Dean was nice, fantastic even, but kissing Harry like this – it stopped time.

Her mouth opened underneath his, and his tongue darted forward. As soon she tasted him, Ginny knew she was in over her head. He was addictive. Her first instinct was to break the kiss and run for the hills. But hotter heads prevailed, and she whimpered as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. No other kiss she'd ever had could compare; she felt sleepy and achy, almost swept out of herself.

Harry's tongue delved deeper into her mouth, sliding sensuously along her tongue until he finally wrenched his mouth away and pressed his forehead against hers. "Ginny," he panted, "we can't."

Ginny nodded, her forehead still on his. "Sorry," she said, breathing heavily. "Guess I got carried away. It just-" she let go of his hair and cupped his face with her hands. "It just feels like you're saying goodbye."

"Not goodbye," he said fiercely. "But you chose this, Ginny."

"Well, what else was I supposed to choose?" she asked him quietly. "I'm not making a choice between you or him, Harry. He's my boyfriend and you're my friend. I can have both. I need you both."

Harry shook his head ruefully, as if he knew something she didn't. "Of course you can, Fury. But we can't kiss like that again if you expect Dean to remain your boyfriend."

Ginny blushed and hit him on the shoulder. "Git. I can't help it if I'm such a good kisser that you lose control."

Harry feigned outraged. "Excuse me; I believe you were the one who was whimpering."

Ginny hit him again, but he captured her hand and kissed the palm. "C'mon, let's get back to the common room." He motioned towards his back with his thumb. "Hop on."

Ginny grinned and climbed back up his back, and Harry carried her all the way to Gryffindor Tower. She chatted happily the whole way, but inside she felt like she was being twisted in two.

Later that night, Ginny sat with Dean in front of the fireplace after everyone else had gone to bed. He put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her to him, but never noticed Ginny tracing her lips with her fingertips. She hoped that if he did, he would assume she was thinking of his kisses instead of Harry's.

"You want us to what?"

Harry and Ginny both stared at Professor Dumbledore in shock. Harry wasn't sure he'd heard the Headmaster correctly.

When the Headmaster had asked them to join him for tea on Saturday, Harry had figured he wanted to discuss what had happened in June at the Ministry of Magic. He never would have dreamed Dumbledore would be asking for them to continue the D.A.

"Sir," Ginny said doubtfully, "we just formed the D.A. because that toad Umbridge wasn't teaching us any practical defence. Now that Professor Lupin is back, there's no need for it."

"There is always a need to learn more Defence Against the Dark Arts," Dumbledore said mildly. "Particularly in light of the way Voldemort has been amassing various dark creatures to his side. I would like to reinstate the D.A. with Professor Lupin as an official sponsor of the club, and I would like you both to lead it."

"Are – are you sure?"

"Completely. Only, let's change the name shall we? Cornelius Fudge's tenure as Minister of Magic is tenuous at best; there's no need to torture him further."

"I guess we could call it the Defence Association," Harry said slowly. "But…why us? Surely there are some seventh year students who would be better equipped to-"

"You think someone else other than you and Ginny could teach more to these students about defending themselves against Voldemort and his Death Eaters?" Dumbledore raised his eyes at him and lowered his tea cup. He peered at them over the top edge of his glasses.

"I believe Ms. Granger's original reasoning for asking you to teach the students was well thought out. Who better to teach than one who knows?"

"Professor," Ginny began, "couldn't you teach it? Wouldn't that be better?"

"I would like this to be a student organization," he reminded her. "Of course, this means you will have to open the club up to everyone, including the Slytherins. Shall we say, third year and above?"

"That's a lot of people to teach," Harry commented.

"I'm sure you can handle it," Dumbledore smiled. "It will be less hands-on of course, but still effective. I will expect you to review things that Professor Lupin cannot cover in class."

Harry looked at Ginny, and she nodded at him. He turned back to Dumbledore. "All right, we'll do it. Thanks for asking us, Professor."

Dumbledore gave him a slight nod. "It is I who should be thanking you." He took another sip of tea before setting it gently on the desk in front of him. "I have another request."

Ginny stiffened, but Dumbledore only twinkled at them. "I believe it is time to take a more…personal interest in your education. I would like to begin private duelling lessons with you both."

His announcement dropped like a stone in the room, but Harry couldn't stop the sudden grin that spread over his face. Private lessons…with Dumbledore? It was a like a dream come true. Finally, maybe he'd feel ready to take on Voldemort. He'd always escaped through sheer dumb luck before…

"Why?" Ginny's question came out more laced with suspicion, and Harry looked at her in surprise.

Dumbledore also looked at her, but didn't seem surprised at her question. "Voldemort is after you both," he said bluntly. "And after what I saw in June, I realized I'd underestimated the lengths to which he would go to capture either one of you. Although I think you both really damaged him that night, he will come back with a vengeance, and I would like you both to be prepared."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps I'm being a bit egotistical but I don't trust anyone other than myself to perform this task. You will, of course, be expected to pass on some of the more basic techniques to the D.A., but the majority of our lessons together will have to remain private."

Once again, Harry and Ginny looked at each other, asking silent questions through their eyes. In Harry's mind, there was no question whether they should say yes. Ginny seemed unsure, and Harry remembered that she was always a bit paranoid about the power that Tom Riddle had left in her. Even during friendly duels with him last year, she'd worked to keep a tight control.

"Don't worry," he hissed to her in parseltongue, "you won't hurt anyone. I trust you."

Ginny sighed and looked at Dumbledore. "Okay," she simply said.

And just like that, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley became Albus Dumbledore's apprentices.

_Two months later:_

Harry walked slowly around the DA room, his sharp eyes taking in the various duels around him. He nodded approvingly at Neville who was duelling fiercely with Luna and had just shot an excellent stunner at the Ravenclaw who had barely been able to sidestep it. Neville had really improved.

His eyes shifted over to find Ginny who was working with a few of the Slytherins who had joined the group this year. They were working on Patronuses and Harry delighted in seeing Ginny's lion Patronus run circles around the wisps of smoke and shapeless animals the rest of them were producing. Ginny chose that moment to glance up and when she saw him watching her, she smiled at him with a knowing grin. He smiled back.

Things between them were good. It'd been two months since their kiss in the hallway after the year's first Quidditch practice, and they'd managed to find some sort of balance. Ginny seemed genuinely happy with Dean, although it was weird for Harry to watch her with someone. He'd told her as much several times, and she would heartily agree with him every time he said it.

Sometimes the kiss they'd shared haunted him, and Harry fancied his lips were still burning. Harry wondered if Ginny would ever acknowledge the attraction between them. If he'd understood Ginny any less, he would have been hurt, confused and angry by her actions. Instead, he understood all too well.

The Wednesday evening lessons with Dumbledore were, as Ginny put it, "fucking awesome." Harry had laughed with shock when Ginny had put it that way, but he'd had to agree; they were both learning more than they ever thought possible.

The only drawback, and Harry wasn't entirely sure this was a drawback, was that duelling with Ginny was — to put it bluntly — a turn on. He'd been embarrassed more than once when at the end of a duel, he'd wanted to throw down his wand and snog the living dead out of his best friend. The attraction he felt for her usually simmered pleasantly under the surface, but when they duelled, the adrenaline amplified those feelings until Harry's gut was a churning mass of lust and desire. Usually he settled things by going for a fly, but more often than not, he'd wished he had his own girlfriend.

He would have been even more embarrassed if he hadn't suspected the duels did the same thing to Ginny; he'd caught that same glitter in her eyes many times.

"Day dreaming, Professor Potter?"

He shook his head and turned with a smirk to see Ginny grinning at him. She'd taken to calling him that lately because he was so "authoritative" with the D.A. members. He closed the few steps between them and ran a hand through her red silk hair, tugging playfully on the ends.

"You look tired, Gin. Been getting enough sleep?" She had dark circles under her eyes, and she'd been a little grumpy lately. After three years of friendship, Harry was remarkably tuned to Ginny's moods.

It was her turn to shake her head. "Not enough," she said ruefully. "Nightmares. And since I can't come and sleep with you…" her voice trailed off helplessly, and she shrugged her shoulders. Harry reached for her hand.

"Sorry, Fury." They'd agreed that Ginny sleeping in Harry's bed while Dean was in the same room would just be cruel. But they both suffered for their nobility. Just as Ginny needed Harry to keep away her nightmares, he needed her to keep away his. Last year, they'd spent a least one night a week together — this year they hadn't spent any.

"Me too," she said ruefully. "But it makes me feel guilty to say that. Does it make me a bad girlfriend?"

"Nah. Just…conflicted. It's not wrong to want a decent night's sleep."

"Anyway, it's Christmas in a few weeks," Harry added, as they both turned back to the room, their eyes wandering over the active club members. "Dean's going home, isn't he? You can sleep with me then if you need to."

Ginny's face lit up. "That's right! Oh, thank Merlin."

Ginny did not consider this to be cheating. She and Harry just slept in his bed; this simple act stopped the nightmares most of the time, and she'd be damned if she was going to spend the Christmas holidays fighting Tom Riddle and whatever horrors he deemed to send her way. And if Dean found out and didn't understand that, then she'd chuck him. When they'd first started dating, she was pleased that he respected her independence; lately it seemed like he was trying to…conquer it instead.

Christmas holidays soon arrived and Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys were the only ones left in the tower. Harry was looking forward to a relaxing vacation and had forgotten all about Ginny being able to share his bed until the night after everyone had gone home. Ginny woke him up about 2 a.m. and despite her pale, sweaty appearance, Harry sat up in bed and looked stupidly at her.

She smiled weakly at him, but he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her over him and down to the mattress. He rolled onto top of her and settled his weight on her happily, laying his cheek on the red hair strewn across his pillow.

"Harry-"

"Ssshhh," he silenced her with a brief kiss on the lips and tried not to linger. "Go back to sleep."

She shoved at him weakly. "Harry, get off. I can't sleep with you on top of me."

He huffed and shifted his weight so to the side so that he was still mostly on top of her but not so heavy.

"Let me hold you," he begged sleepily. "It's been so long, Ginny…" his voice trailed off and Ginny sighed exasperatedly when she heard his deep breaths as he lapsed into sleep. She tried to wriggle out from underneath him but he just tugged her closer and buried his face in her neck.

"Stop moving, Fury," he mumbled and dropped back off to sleep.

Ginny sighed heavily, amazed that she could take such a deep breath, and resigned herself to sleeping underneath him. She let sleepiness overtake her and soon, Harry's weight felt comfortable pressing her into the mattress. She just hoped he didn't drool on her neck.

Harry awoke when the morning sun finally pierced through a gap in the curtains surrounding his bed. He lifted his head from his red pillow and was surprised to find Ginny still sleeping soundly underneath him. He vaguely remembered her coming to his bed the night before and being so happy to see her that he'd insisted on trapping her to the bed, afraid she'd leave.

Harry shifted his weight to his elbows on either side of her head and looked down at her. She looked so peaceful, so content, lying there in his bed, her gorgeous hair covering his pillow. He felt his body begin to react to her warm body underneath him and stifled a groan. He'd have to move now; this usually happened when he woke up with Ginny, but he always managed to move before she realized what was happening to him.

He fought the instinct to move against her, but when she arched up a little and breathed his name softly in her sleep, he couldn't stop himself from lowering his head and placing his open mouth against her bare collarbone. His tongue flickered out and tasted her skin as he rubbed his lips back and forth softly, determined not to let his mouth travel further. He had no business doing this to another guy's witch.

With a muttered oath, he tore himself away and rolled off of Ginny for the first time in hours. His body immediately felt cold and he sat up on the edge of the bed, facing away from her.

"Harry?" Ginny's head lifted from the pillow and she looked around for him through bleary eyes.

"Go back to sleep, Gin," he said, looking at her over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

"M'kay," she stretched like a cat and rolled to her side, snuggling down into his pillows and curling up underneath his blankets. She hadn't needed a blanket last night because he, Harry, had lain on top of her.

He showered quickly and dressed as silently as possible, determined not to wake her since she'd not been sleeping well lately. He closed the dorm room door quietly behind him and headed down to breakfast.

Ginny slept through breakfast and when he went back up to get her for lunch, she was already gone. Still feeling weird about the night before and the morning, Harry didn't actively seek her out until she didn't show up for dinner. Then he sighed in exasperation, slapped a couple of sandwiches together and went immediately to the Room of Requirement.

Harry entered the room to find Ginny in her usual black sports bra and pants using a punching bag. She'd obviously been at it for quite a while because she'd sweated through the stretchy cotton material and sweat ran in rivulets down her chest and back. He asked the room for a table and set one sandwich down on a plate that appeared and ate the other one while he watched her.

Something was upsetting her; that much was obvious by the way she was pummelling the bag. She didn't give any indication that she knew he was there, but he didn't think his arrival had gone unnoticed. After several minutes, she gave a final, half-hearted punch and the bag disappeared. She didn't look at him as she undid her gloves with her teeth and shrunk them with her wand before shoving everything back into a nearby bag. Only then did she turn to him, still wiping her face with a towel.

"Thanks," she said, reaching for the sandwich he'd left for her on the table.

He let her chew a few bites in silence and then: "Want to tell me what that was all about?"

"Not really," she shrugged.

"Want to tell me why you disappeared all day?"

"No," she said flatly.

"Okay. What do you want to do?"

She finished her sandwich and brushed the crumbs from her hands with a flourish. "How 'bout a duel?"

He looked at her thoughtfully. "Aren't you already tired?"

"Nope." She bounded out of her chair and walked over to her bag along the wall. As she retrieved her wand, the room they were in lengthened and expanded until it looked like the D.A. room. Harry gave in and stood up, pulling his jumper over his head and removing his shirt until he stood in an undershirt and jeans. He pulled out his wand and stood about ten paces from her.

"You're not going to tell me what's going on until we do this, are you?"

She shook her head. "Maybe not even then."

"Is it bad?" He threw a weak Stunner at her, just to get things started.

She countered with a tickling jinx that he dodged. "It was just another nightmare."

"How bad?" He tried a disarming spell, but he hadn't put enough power behind it, and she managed to hold onto her wand.

"It's the same one I've had for weeks. Basically, Voldemort kills everyone." She went into a series of spells that distracted him, and the friendly duel suddenly morphed into a high-powered, intensity-charged fight that took every ounce of his concentration.

Ginny looked exhilarated as she dodged and fired spells. Harry felt his adrenaline rise until the tension between them was almost a physical thing. Unsaid feelings and desires sparkled like electricity in the air. This was probably a really bad idea; normally they would be duelling in front of Professor Dumbledore whose presence kept things from getting out of hand.

_She's Dean's girlfriend, she's your best friend_, Harry chanted to himself over and over again even as he fired hexes at her. He finally hit her with a tripping jinx, and she stumbled around. Before he could fire the counter spell, she'd tripped into him and they went crashing to the duelling mat.

Ginny landed on top of him, breathing heavily; each breath she took sent her chest into his, and he felt like moaning in pleasure. She panted on top of him, her eyes boring into his, her pupils glittering.

Harry couldn't look away, couldn't stop himself from digging his fingers into the sides of her waist and lifting his chin. Ginny shook with the struggle to contain herself on top of him, and he sensed she was losing. He wasn't stupid, he knew what that look meant — he'd seen it on her face before. Her hand let go of her wand, and it fell to the floor with a clatter as she reached up and fisted her fingers in his hair.

Hesitatingly, as if she hadn't quite made up her mind but was powerless to stop, Ginny lowered her mouth to his. Their open mouths met. Lips touched lips and stopped. They exchanged breaths, and Harry couldn't stop his tongue from inching forward to meet hers and stopping just past the threshold of her lips. She hovered over him, her mouth open over his, the tip of her tongue touching his. They hung there suspended in the beginning stages of a kiss. Harry knew that if she moved, even a little, he would roll her over and grind his hips into hers to show her exactly what she did to him.

With a tortured gasp that was more of a sob, Ginny dragged her lips across his and opened her mouth on his jaw, her teeth biting gently into his skin. She stopped there, not trusting herself to move more.

Harry could feel her mouth poised to nibble on his jaw; each one of her teeth a tiny pulse point in his skin. He waited with bated breath for her to decide; he wasn't going to be the one to move things further. The desire between them had been building for years. It swirled around them, pushing them closer together.

Finally with a moan, Ginny gathered the strength to roll off of Harry. She collapsed on her back next to him on the mat and muttered, "Fuck" beneath her breath.

_Exactly_, Harry thought. He didn't look at her but sat up, resting his forearms on his bent knees and hanging his head in his hands. They didn't speak.

Finally Ginny cleared her throat and said, "Maybe we shouldn't duel alone anymore."

Harry nodded, his head still in his hands, "Agreed."

"Harry? Are you-"

"I just need a minute," he said hoarsely. Harry urged his body to return to normal; he forced the adrenaline back down and said the earlier chant over and over again in his head. He tried to replace the memory of the look of sheer desire on Ginny's face with one of Dean Thomas' smiling one.

Eventually he stood up and asked the room for a drink of water that he gulped down. He walked over to where he'd flung his jumper and shirt and busied himself with putting them back on. He stiffened when he felt a small hand on his shoulder.

"Dammit, Ginny," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Do you have any idea what you do to me sometimes? How far you push me?"

She took her hand off his shoulder, stung. "What about how far you push me?" she demanded. "What was that this morning, huh? You think I didn't feel that?"

Harry turned around, his face guilty. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I didn't think you were awake."

"I wasn't," she retorted. "Until I felt you _lick-_" she broke off and ran a hand over her face. "Look, I'm just going to say what we're both thinking, okay. Save us some time." She took a deep breath.

"I'm attracted to you. I always have been. And even though we're just friends, when we duel…well, all that comes out. Dueling with you-" she broke off and shook her head.

"It's a bloody turn-on," Harry finished.

"Yeah," she smiled in relief.

He took a step closer. "I'm attracted to you too, Ginny. I don't think I've made a secret of that. But I'm damned if I know what to do about it."

"Do about it?" she looked at him warily. "Why should we do anything about it?"

He stopped short. "You don't think we should do anything about this." He gestured between them.

"No," she said defiantly.

"No?"

"No."

"Well, that's just the stupidest thing I've ever heard," he said angrily. "You can't just sweep something like that under the rug and ignore it."

"We can," she said stubbornly. "We have to."

"We've been doing it for three years!" Harry exploded. "It isn't working, Ginny! It keeps coming back up! And it's going to keep coming back up until we deal with it."

"What do you want me to say, Harry? I'm with Dean, and I care about him." Ginny crossed her arms in front of her chest. "We can't just snog and hope it gets out of our system."

Harry stared at her. The truth was he didn't know what he wanted her to say. Was he prepared to ask her to chuck Dean over on the chance that they might be able to have something beyond friendship? What if it didn't work out? Then he'd have lost Ginny.

Harry waged an internal war with himself. Part of him wanted to fight for her, for what he suspected they could have. There was something looming in the back of his mind, but he couldn't identify what it was; it was a reason, he was sure of that. The other part realized that Ginny gave him more than she gave everyone else; he was happy with that, and the knowledge that Dean would never have all of her.

"You're right," he sighed. "I don't want to jeopardize our friendship, Ginny. You mean everything to me."

"Oh, Harry, me too," she swallowed. "What's wrong with us? Why do we keep doing this?"

Harry wisely kept silent. He knew there was more between them than this; but he was too much of a coward to admit it without a guarantee she felt the same way.

Despite the intensity of their duel and the near-snogging incident afterwards, Harry and Ginny fell back into their old routine. Privately, Harry moped for a few days but eventually he realized that if he wanted things to remain the same between them, he would have to suck it up and learn to be happy with the status quo.

If only he could figure out what the status quo was. They were friends? Yes. With something more? Maybe. They were attracted to each other? Yes. Were they going to do anything about it? No.

What they had was enough. Wasn't it?

The whole thing was damned confusing and, not for the first time, Harry wished Sirius was there to hash the whole thing out with. He'd gladly have talked to Ron about it if he hadn't been Ginny's brother. He nearly discussed it with Hermione, but decided that wouldn't be fair to Ginny.

Two weeks of nightmare-free nights went too fast, and the first night the rest of the school returned found Harry cold and alone in bed. He missed Ginny. Missed her warmth, missed the way she smelled, missed the feeling of her small frame against him.

Angrily, he sat up and punched his pillow. He really needed to get a life…get a girlfriend…something.

Ginny studied the cards in her hand and carefully hid her smirk. It really was too easy sometimes; like taking a chocolate frog from a baby.

"I'll raise you two," Ron threw a couple of sickles into the pot in the centre of the table and looked inquiringly at Seamus.

"I'll see your two and raise you," Seamus counted under his breath, "five."

Dean groaned and tossed his cards down. "I fold."

Lavender tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail on the table. She was a decent poker player, but she got bored easily and never lasted very long at their games. Boredom made her reckless, and she would either win large pots or lose all her money in one fell swoop.

With a dainty sigh, Lavender also folded, and it was Colin's turn.

"I don't like the look on her face," he said, motioning to Ginny.

"Me?" Ginny asked innocently. "What look?"

"No look," he retorted, "that's the problem. You look too innocent. I fold." He threw his cards to the table and sat back in his chair.

Ginny shrugged and all eyes turned to Harry. Realizing it was his turn, he stopped shuffling the cards in his hand and looked up. Ginny felt a familiar swoop in her stomach when she saw the competitive glint in his eye.

"Seven to me?" he asked mildly. His eyes shot briefly to Ginny's, and he casually tossed seven sickles into the pot.

"I'll raise ten," he added, and tossed ten more sickles into the pile at the centre of the table.

Ron huffed, looked down at his cards and with a tortured sigh, folded. Seamus followed, leaving Harry and Ginny the only two players left.

The entire table groaned.

"Not again," Lavender complained. "Why does it always come down to those two?" She waved a hand at Harry and Ginny.

"It's the way of the world," Seamus explained. "All things come down to Harry and Ginny…especially poker."

"We're going to be here all night," Ron grumped. "They'll go on for hours now and Ginny'll wind up betting all the clothing on her back and my parents' house again."

"Oh please, Ron," Ginny scoffed. "I was six years old the last time I did that. And if you'll recall, I won that hand."

Harry shifted in his seat to face her. "It's your bet, Fury."

Carefully maintaining her expression of disinterest, Ginny selected ten sickles from her pile and met Harry's raise. She studied him carefully. He was almost as good as she was by this point, but he still had a few tells. If he was bluffing, he usually took a swig of Butterbeer every few minutes. If he had a good hand, he looked impatiently at the person who sat to his right.

She watched, waiting for him to take a sip or to look at Colin. He did neither; she had no idea what that meant. Shrugging mentally, she raised the pot by two galleons.

"Are you bluffing me, Fury?" Harry met her raise and added five galleons. Her eyebrows lifted at the steep raise, but she gave no other indication of emotion.

"Probably," she answered.

"Should we make this interesting then?"

Ginny added eight more galleons to the pot. "That isn't interesting enough for you?"

Harry saw her bet with his galleons; it was time to show the cards, but he wanted to make one final bet. "If I win, you have to teach me that spell that Fred and George taught you last summer that you kept such a secret."

Fred and George had been very mysterious about the whole thing and ever since Harry had found out that Ginny had been sworn to secrecy, he'd been dying to know what the spell did.

She eyed him shrewdly, but she did not look back down at her cards. "Fine," she agreed. "But if I win, you have to wear a girl's uniform to classes every day next week."

The boys hooted and Lavender giggled. "I've got a green hair ribbon that would go lovely with your eyes, Harry."

He ignored her and scowled at Ginny. "You can't make that bet. I'll get detention."

She shrugged. "Well, if you're too scared…"

His eyes narrowed. "I know what you're trying to do, it won't work."

"So you won't make the bet?"

"No," he said stubbornly, "pick something else."

"Fine." She smiled evilly. "All right, if you lose, I get to cut your hair."

"You want to cut my hair?" He looked at her doubtfully and not, Ginny noticed, without a small amount of suspicion.

She nodded.

"I know this is probably some sort of trick but…all right." He laid down his cards and Seamus whistled.

"Blimey, a flush."

Ginny sat up in her chair and looked tragic. "That's an excellent hand, Harry."

Her face broke into a slow, evil smile. "I promise this hurts me more than it hurts you."

One by one, Ginny laid her cards on the table. When she was done, she was showing a Royal flush.

Harry swore impressively, and Ginny stood up and took several bows as her fellow Gryffindors clapped and cheered.

"Hermione!" she called, "Go fetch the scissors!"

The next morning, Harry walked into the Great Hall amid the cheers and jeers of his classmates. Ginny had done more than cut his hair, she'd _shaved_ it into a buzz cut, dyed it blond, and then used magic to carve her name in the back.

Ginny waved merrily as admirers congratulated her on Harry's new hairdo. She took her seat at the breakfast table next to a scowling Harry and rubbed the fuzz on his head fondly.

"Stop it," he hissed, jerking his head away. "I'll get you back for this, Fury."

"Oh, stuff it," she said, reaching for the eggs. "You lost and I won, fair and square. Besides, I wanted to write, "Ginny Weasley is the superior poker player" on the back but your head isn't big enough. I'm the one who should be upset."

"Dying it and carving your name into the back wasn't part of the bet," he said through gritted teeth.

"Artistic license," she said airily. "Here, have some eggs." She plopped a spoonful onto his plate and added some bacon.

Harry grumpily ate his eggs and bacon, ignoring Ron's snickers. Not used to being so bare, his head was rather cold. He would have complained about _that_ too, but there was no telling what sort of hat Ginny would conjure up for him.

Ginny's triumph over Harry was short-lived; his hair grew back practically overnight leaving him with blond tips at the end of his usual black shaggy hair. He considered retaliation, but decided to be a good sport about losing the game and left it alone.

"I need a girlfriend," Harry announced one evening. He and Ginny were working on their lesson plans for the next month's D.A.; they had to submit the lessons plans to Dumbledore well in advance.

"What?" Ginny looked up from the chart she'd been drawing.

"I need someone to snog, Ginny, and you're unavailable," he said plainly. "I need someone else to hang out with. I'm sort of pathetic right now."

"Well, I knew that." A smile quirked at the corner of her lips. "But don't you think you should date someone because you like them, not just because you need a good snog?"

"Although," she added, "if you simply wanted someone to snog, there are probably lots of girls who would be happy to-"

"No," he said hastily. "I don't want that kind of girl. I want someone who's more serious than that."

"Okay," she said crisply, "what kind of girl do you want?"

_Someone like you_, he thought. Out loud he said, "Hell, Ginny. I don't know. I just want someone I can talk to; who likes me for me and not for all that Boy-Who-Lived crap."

Ginny thought for a moment. "So probably a Gryffindor then…" her voice trailed off.

The truth was Ginny didn't want to have this conversation with Harry. She had no right to feel that way — she was with Dean —and she felt like a complete bitch for even thinking it. Harry was her best friend, and she had never wanted to jeopardize that; but she'd be lying if she said the thought of Harry dating someone didn't give her insides a funny squirm.

With an inward sigh, she allowed herself to admit what she'd secretly known for some time: There was something more between her and Harry than just friendship. She had no idea how far it could go and no willing desire to confess it. But it had always been there, lurking in the background. If Tom hadn't broken into her dreams so often to show her what he could do to Harry, she might have pursued things a bit more.

The truth was that Harry had been more than a friend for a very long time. Ginny wasn't stupid, even though she pretended to be about such things. She'd known something deeper existed between them since the summer after Sirius died. But she'd kept the secret to herself and never let on that she suspected. The knowledge had washed over her in one bright, sweet moment the same morning her mother had caught them in Harry's bed; she had been alone in the Quidditch pitch, cleaning up the sticks from the grass as a punishment. But that moment of clarity was forever ruined by Tom's sudden awakening inside of her. He had gripped her soul and her mind with such fierceness that she'd cried out in terror and collapsed to the ground. She had lain there, spread-eagled, wide-eyed at the sky and panting while Tom hissed to her. He'd threatened Harry, her friends, her family, everyone she'd ever loved -- but most of all Harry. The pain of the memory washed over her and she resolved once again, to keep Harry safe...especially from herself.

Harry dropped his quill on the floor and Ginny took the precious seconds while he bent down to pick it up to close her eyes in defeat. When he sat back up, she had a smile on her face; hoping he couldn't see what was hidden beneath it.

Ginny tried not to frown at her boyfriend's hand wrapped around her own. It wasn't that she objected so much to the handholding; it was the WAY he was holding it that irritated her. He grasped her small fingers in his larger palm and she couldn't help but compare it to the way Harry had always held her hand. When Harry took her hand, he held it with confidence and assurance, always lacing their fingers together so they were equally participating in the intimacy. Dean held onto her as if she would soon escape from him. It made her feel trapped.

Lately Ginny had found herself comparing everything about Dean to Harry. The way he stroked her hair was not done with the same reverence as Harry; the way his eyes flashed when he was aroused or angry, or both, was less sexy on Dean; the way he almost never fought with her — always giving in even when she was being a total prat. When he kissed her, although it was very nice, it never made her knees buckle or her heart pound with the same intensity it had last year when she and Harry had frantically made out at Grimmauld Place.

Ginny knew she was in trouble. Every time Dean kissed her, she flashed back to that moment over Christmas when she had almost kissed Harry again after their duel in the Room of Requirement. To make matters worse, they were duelling on a regular basis as a team against Dumbledore. The way she and Harry moved together in opposition to another opponent was like what Ginny imagined sex would be. They anticipated each other's movement and glided around each other until Ginny was panting, but not from the effort of the duel. Many times after a duel, Harry would excuse himself quickly and exit the room; leaving Ginny breathing heavily and looking sheepishly back at Dumbledore. Their mentor never said anything about the obvious tension in the room, but his eyes twinkled merrily.

Only one time had Harry lost a little bit of his control. Dumbledore had snuck out as soon as the duel was over and Ginny had been wiping the sweat from her face with a towel when Harry finally threw his own towel to the floor with a fierce growl. He'd stalked over to her and grabbed her around the waist, lowering his mouth to her neck with a groan. He'd sucked the tender flesh into his hot mouth hard enough to leave a mark and just when Ginny had felt her knees do that damned buckling thing again, he'd pushed her away with a snarl and left the room.

Ginny had been forced to cover the mark he'd left on her with a concealing charm; they hadn't spoken about what had happened, but the next day, Ginny had found a single white rose on her pillow when she'd woken up. It was an apology and she accepted it without question. She knew she should be mad at him, but since she'd enjoyed the moment too much, she punished herself by quickly forgiving him.

It wasn't that she didn't understand what was happening to her; the issue came when preparing to fight her growing attraction to her best friend. Besides the obvious issues, her nightmares about Tom had made it clear that he did not approve of such feelings.

When they weren't duelling on a regular basis, Ginny enjoyed their friendship. It was a lot easier to run from her feelings without any unresolved sexual tension to cloud the issue.

Harry was making good on his plan to get a girlfriend and had already chatted up every fifth year girl and above in Hogwarts. He was searching, he claimed, for the perfect woman. He hadn't had much luck though and was discouraged enough to ask Parvati Patil out for the final Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Ginny had flinched when he told her, but had pasted on a smile she was sure he'd been able to see through.

Ginny's nightmares were changing slowly over time. She dreamt more and more of the Chamber of Secrets and a desire to see the place where she'd lost so much began to take shape. It was ridiculous that she was still having nightmares about something that happened over four years ago and although she figured she'd always have the dreams about Tom Riddle possessing her, perhaps a visit to the Chamber of Secrets would lay to rest some of the other nightmares.

"Do you ever think about going back down to the Chamber of Secrets?" she asked Harry late one night in the common room. They'd both been unable to sleep and had happened to come down the stairs around the same time.

Harry stroked a gentle hand down her hair. She was curled up against his side on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her. He was a lot more affectionate with her when Dean wasn't around — they both were — and although she tried to feel like she was doing something wrong, it was impossible when she and Harry were so used to being this way with each other.

"No," he said finally. "I don't. I have nightmares about it, but I've never thought about going back down there."

They were quiet a little longer and Ginny felt her eyes grow heavy; the warmth of Harry's hard chest under her cheek and the security with which his arm was wrapped around her lulled her closer to sleep.

"Wait a minute, do you think about that?" Harry sounded more awake than he had a few minutes ago.

She yawned. "Yes of course. I've been wondering if seeing it again would stop some of the nightmares."

His arm tightened around her. "Ginny, promise me you won't go down there. It's…it's dangerous and scary and I'm pretty sure it would only add to the nightmares."

She laughed. "I'm not going to make a promise like that, Harry. Who do you think you are? My mother?"

Harry gripped her by her forearms and lifted her torso off his chest so he could look her in the eyes. "I'm someone who cares for you very much," he said firmly. "And I don't want you to get hurt by going down there. It's not worth it. There's nothing left for you there."

"I see that damn place in my dreams two or three times a week," she explained quietly. "If seeing it again will put those memories to rest-"

"It won't," Harry said forcefully. "It couldn't."

"How do you know?"

"I just do," he said helplessly. "Please, Ginny."

She shook her head and stood up. "I can't make you any promise, Harry. I'm sorry. I don't have plans to do it right now, maybe I never will. But if seeing it helps get past the nightmares then I'm willing to do just about anything."

"Then take me with you," he demanded from his seat on the couch.

Ginny took a step back. "I think this is something I have to do by myself," she said cautiously.

"Ginny," he said sharply. "You cannot go down there by yourself!"

She sighed and looked away, gathering her thoughts. "Fine," she said, looking back at him. "I'll tell you before I go. I promise."

Harry seemed mollified by this and she kissed him softly on the cheek before going back up to bed.

Whether it was because he refused to accept it or because he genuinely forgot the conversation, the idea that Ginny wanted to visit the Chamber of Secrets again eventually slipped Harry's mind. His date with Parvati was in a few days and he wasn't quite sure what it meant that he was more apprehensive than excited. Weren't guys supposed to look forward to dates?

"Why did you ask her out if you don't want to go?" Ron asked reasonably.

Harry just shrugged. "She doesn't giggle too much and she's reasonably intelligent."

"She's not too bad looking," Ron commented.

"Yeah," Harry said dully. "She's got a sort of exotic look about her. Only-"

"Only what?" Ron asked shrewdly. He sat down on his bed and faced Harry in their dorm room.

"Well…I just go for a different-looking sort of girl," Harry told him.

"Partial to redheads are you?" Ron lifted his eyebrows, but Harry scowled back at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

It was Ron's turn to shrug. "Thought it was pretty self-explanatory." He stood back up and flicked Harry on the forehead before leaving the room.

Harry remained on his bed, wishing that Ron would stop talking in riddles. He seemed to be implying something about Ginny, but if he wished Harry and his sister would start dating then he should just come out and say it, instead of beating about the bush the whole time.

With a sigh, Harry pushed himself off his bed and made his way downstairs. It was time to take Parvati to Hogsmeade.

As it turned out, the date wasn't half-bad. Parvati seemed extremely nervous, and he had a hard time getting her to say what she wanted to do in the village, but as it didn't end in tears and accusations that Harry was two-timing her with Hermione, Harry considered the date a success. They said an awkward goodbye in the front hall, and Parvati left to go meet some friends in the library.

When Harry made it back to Gryffindor Tower, he was shocked to find Ginny and Dean arguing loudly in the common room.

"I was not!" Ginny was saying hotly. "I didn't mean it that way!"

"So what did it mean then, Ginny?" Dean asked in a hard voice.

Ginny's jaw worked furiously. "It's none of your business."

"I see," he said in a flat voice. "Well, when you decide to let me know why _my_ girlfriend was saying someone else's name in her sleep, perhaps you'll be kind enough to let me know." He turned and stomped back up the stairs.

"Ginny?" Harry looked at her in shock. "What's he talking about? Whose name did you say?"

Ginny threw her arms up in the air, and she exploded. "Oh, don't flatter yourself, Potter!"

She stormed up the stairs and didn't come down the rest of the night.

The next day, when Ginny slaughtered him in duelling practice with Dumbledore, Harry knew she was still upset about her fight with Dean. They'd sat apart at breakfast and lunch and although Harry had sat with her, she'd pretended like nothing was wrong.

However, the anger and power with which she duelled that afternoon was a dead giveaway. When it was over, she stomped out of the room before Harry could ask her what was bothering her. He turned to Dumbledore apologetically.

"I think she's had a bad week."

"Really?" Dumbledore lifted his eyebrows questioningly.

"Er…she and Dean had a fight," Harry said, not sure if he should be telling his professor this. "I don't know what it was about though."

Dumbledore nodded and walked over to Harry, conjuring a hand towel along the way. He handed it to Harry who took it gratefully and wiped the sweat off the back of his neck and face.

"Harry," Dumbledore said abruptly. "I'm about to give you some advice. Normally I would never presume to interfere in anyone's life in this way, but you and Ginny both seem to be so blinded as to the truth that I cannot in all good conscience keep silent any longer."

He stood in front of Harry and laid a fatherly hand on his shoulder. "Please heed what I am about to say: Right or wrong, scary or not, difficult or easy, relationships like the one you share with Ginny only come along once in a lifetime…and sometimes not even then. If you don't act soon and do something about those feelings you are struggling with then you will regret it the rest of your life."

Harry was taken aback. "What are you talking about, Professor?"

"I'm saying if there is anything in this life that is worth taking a risk for — it's love. Take the leap, Harry. It's time."

He patted Harry on the shoulder and walked out of the room leaving Harry to stare in shock after him.

Harry barely had time to contemplate Dumbledore's advice; although it did not escape his notice that both Ron and Dumbledore had now alluded to something neither one of them was willing to just come out and say. It was vexing, to say the least, and Harry shoved it aside to deal with at a later date.

Final exams were fast approaching and Hermione had made out very strict revising schedules for herself, Ron and Harry. After six years of Hermione's tutelage, Harry knew better than to deny that the schedules helped.

It occurred to Harry that it was nearly May and they hadn't heard out of Voldemort all year. Dumbledore thought it was because he and Ginny had damaged him so badly when they forcefully ended his possession of their bodies. But that had happened nearly a year ago; surely he was recovered by now? He found himself growing more apprehensive as the end of the school year approached. He hated the feeling of _waiting_ for Voldemort, but he'd learned not to underestimate the dark wizard; he always had a plan.

Ginny and Dean continued their mutual cold shoulders until one evening a fiercely whispered conversation in the corner of the common room both broke the silence and brought things to a head.

Dean had apparently had enough and after ignoring Ginny for an hour while revising for his exams, he threw his textbook down in disgust and marched over to where Ginny was sitting and sat down.

Ron, who had stiffened when Dean sat down next to Ginny, hissed, "He'd better not be yelling at her again."

"What happened anyway?" Harry asked.

Ron looked at him strangely. "You mean _you _don't know? Ginny didn't tell you?"

"No, Ron, she didn't," Harry said impatiently. "What happened between them?"

Hermione looked worried. "I'm not sure we should-"

"She said your name in her sleep," Ron interrupted abruptly. Hermione shot him a dirty look, but he continued. "She was taking a kip on the couch down here and started mumbling your name."

Harry was astonished, but he didn't know if it was because Ginny had said his name or because Ron knew something about Ginny that he didn't. "She told you that?"

"No, of course not," Ron waved a hand. "She told Hermione."

"And I told you in the strictest confidence," Hermione whispered angrily. "You weren't supposed to tell!"

"I DREAM ABOUT DEATH, OKAY!" Ginny had launched herself off the couch and was shouting at Dean. "Is that what you want to hear!?!? They aren't _dreams_, Dean; they're bloody nightmares! And Harry dies in nearly every one of them! That's why I said his name! It wasn't romantic! I was begging Voldemort not to kill him!"

Dean stared up at her in shock. Harry, Ron and Hermione watched as realization followed quickly by regret came over his face, and he stammered to apologize.

"Ginny…I-I'm so…please-"

Ginny drew herself up and looked down at him haughtily. "We're through. I won't be with anyone who doesn't trust me."

She turned on her heel and walked stately up the stairs.

"Ginny!" Dean's cry was desperate. She didn't turn around and he fell back against the cushions in frustration.

Harry, along with the rest of the Gryffindor Tower, watched her go and wondered if Dean knew exactly what was walking away from him.


	18. Chapter 18 Coming Out of the Dark

Chapter 18

A sneaking suspicion was growing in Harry▓s mind. It was more of an awakening, like a part of him had been hidden for a long time just waiting for him to acknowledge it before coming out and rearing its ugly head.

It had all started after Ginny broke up with Dean. Two nights hadn▓t gone by when she showed up in Harry▓s four-poster, pale and wan from a nightmare. He▓d taken one look at her and pulled her down onto the mattress and in his arms. The next morning, after waking up from what had been the best night▓s sleep he▓d had in a long time, he▓d held her sleeping form and wondered at his irrational anger with Dean for embarrassing her.

Because Harry sympathized - just a smidge - with Dean. If he▓d found his girlfriend taking a nap on the couch and she▓d said some other bloke▓s name, he▓d probably demand to know what the dream had been about. But it was hard to remember that when it had been Ginny who▓d confessed to the whole common room that she suffered from nightmares; something that Harry knew for a fact she tried to keep a secret.

He had held Ginny for a long time that morning; he▓d watched her sleep safely in the confines of his arms and the privacy of the curtains around his bed and had systematically examined every feeling he had for her. There was friendship certainly, lust (no sense in denying that one); he felt protective of her and happy when she walked in the room. In spite of the fact that she made him spitting mad sometimes, he felt a tenderness for her that he did not feel for Hermione or any other girl he knew. And the thought of anyone, namely Voldemort, taking her away from him so that he was forced to live a bleak existence without her, made his chest ache, his heart pound and his lungs burn as he forced air through them.

A bleak existence? Is that what life would be like without her?

The answer was an unequivocal yes. And this was when the sneaking suspicion of the actual truth of his feelings revealed itself. If it was true, he▓d been a daft prat for an incredibly long time.

He didn▓t want to tell any of his friends about the new idea that had supplanted itself in his brain; the last thing he wanted to do was publicly admit to what he suspected he felt. But he desperately needed advice. So he decided to talk to the one person who he knew wouldn▓t tease him.

⌠Hermione, can I talk to you?■

⌠Of course, Harry.■ She closed her book and smiled at him. ⌠What▓s on your mind?■

⌠Love,■ he said bluntly. ⌠What can you tell me about it?■

⌠Um, well, that depends. What kind of love are you talking about?■

He shrugged and sat down next to her. ⌠Any kind, really. Tell me, how did you know you were in love with Ron?■

Hermione looked at him shrewdly, but deigned to answer his question. A dreamy look came over her face. ⌠It was the day he tried to hex Malfoy for calling me a ▒mudblood.▓ He didn▓t think twice, he just pulled out that silly broken wand and fired away.■

⌠When a boy throws up slugs for hours because he was trying to defend you, it▓s either love or a weird taste in food. I knew I loved him when I decided that, slugs notwithstanding, he was still the most attractive boy I▓d ever met.■

⌠Didn▓t know you went in for all that Tarzan and Jane stuff,■ Harry commented.

She shrugged. ⌠I▓ve been surrounded by books and formulas and all things educational since I was a child. Ron chucks logic most of the time and goes for the spontaneous solution.■ She eyed Harry, a disturbing glint in her eye.

⌠I don▓t always approve, of course, but it▓s remarkably refreshing. Dead sexy actually.■

Harry shuddered. ⌠I▓m sorry I asked.■

She laughed and ruffled his hair. ⌠Want to tell me what this is all about?■

Harry▓s face turned red and he thought of a way to tell her without actually identifying the witch in question. ⌠I um┘well┘I think I▓ve been a blind git for a long time. It occurred to me the other day how thick-headed I▓ve been.■ He looked at her pleadingly, willing her to understand what he meant without him having to say the words.

Once again, the blessedly brilliant mind of Hermione didn▓t fail him. He could see that she knew what he meant, and her face softened as she looked at him.

⌠Figured it out, have you?■ She patted his shoulder sympathetically.

⌠Maybe,■ he confessed. ⌠I▓m still working through a few things.■

She shifted in her seat to face him. ⌠Can I give you a bit of advice?■

⌠Why does everyone say that to me?■ He groaned. ⌠Fine, go ahead.■

⌠Love ≈ it doesn▓t make sense,■ she told him gently. ⌠So don▓t even try to sort it out. Just accept it, embrace it and enjoy it. If you don▓t, you▓ll regret it for the rest of your life.■

⌠That,■ he stated grimly, ⌠is exactly what I▓m afraid of.■

The conversation with Hermione helped a little, but Harry barely had time to examine things further. He certainly had no plans to actually do anything about his feelings; what would Ginny do if he did? Probably run the other way. It was his problem ,and he would deal with it; cool heads would eventually prevail.

The fact that the idea scared the shite out of him also helped.

The next two weeks were a blur as the fifth years revised for their upcoming OWLS; Harry barely saw Ginny except when she came to his bed sometimes after a nightmare┘ though she was always gone by the time he woke up. They had discussed her break-up with Dean late one night when she▓d shown up after his roommates had gone to sleep; Ginny said it was less that she didn▓t trust him and more about the fact that he▓d badgered her into admitting something she wasn▓t ready to admit.

After her last exam, Ginny escaped from the impromptu celebrations and snuck out to the Quidditch pitch where she jimmied the lock on the broom shed and selected one of the older and seldom-used school brooms. Making it back into the castle, through the hallways and down to Moaning Myrtle▓s bathroom without anyone noticing the broom in her hand was a stroke of luck, but she had a story prepared just in case.

Cautiously, Ginny opened the door to Myrtle▓s bathroom and poked her head in. She didn▓t hear any sniffling, and the floor was dry so perhaps Myrtle was off haunting the Prefects▓ bathroom right now. Grateful no one, not even a ghost, was around to witness what she was about to do, Ginny slipped inside. She crouched on the floor and examined the pipes beneath each sink, looking for the carved snake that would identify the entrance. It didn▓t take long to find.

She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked nervous; she felt nervous; hell, she was extremely nervous. She▓d promised Harry that she wouldn▓t do this without telling him firs,t but hopefully she would back before he knew she had even gone down into the Chamber. This was something she had to do herself.

Focusing on the snake etched into the pipe, Ginny hissed the words in parseltongue to open the Chamber. Memories of the last time she▓d done this came rushing back; she▓d forgotten a good many of them until now and had only seen snippets of them in her nightmares.

The sink finished moving and a pipe wide enough for a person to fit through gaped open at her. Ginny took a deep breath and gathered her resolve before placing one leg over the broom handle. Slowly and carefully, she descended into the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry and Ron were recovering quite nicely from their final exam when Hermione entered the common room looking perplexed.

⌠What▓s wrong?■ Ron asked, lifting his head from the couch cushion.

⌠Nothing.■ She sat down between them and rested her head on Ron▓s shoulder. ⌠I just can▓t seem to find Ginny. I wanted to see how her last exam went; she was really worried about it this morning.■

⌠Did you try the Room of Requirement?■ Harry asked without opening his eyes.

⌠Yes. And the lake and the Quidditch Pitch.■

⌠The map is up in my room if you want to go get it.■

Hermione hesitated, and then said no. ⌠I▓ll just see her later at dinner.■

But Ginny didn▓t show up at dinner. And she wasn▓t in the common room when they went back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry tried not to show his growing concern to the other two and quietly went upstairs to look at the Marauders▓ Map. He was sufficiently alarmed when Ginny Weasley▓s dot did not appear anywhere on the map. He grabbed it and his wand from his bed and rushed back downstairs.

⌠Ginny▓s not on the map,■ he blurted out, breathless from running down the stairs. He held up the map in his fist. ⌠That means she▓s not on the grounds.■

⌠Are you sure?■ Hermione asked doubtfully.

⌠Yes, of course I▓m sure,■ Harry said impatiently. ⌠Here, check for yourself.■ He thrust the map at Ron and whirled around to search the common room.

⌠Colin! Have you seen Ginny today?■

The blond-haired wizard lifted his head from a game of cards he and some of the other fifth-years were playing. ⌠I saw her at our History of Magic exam,■ he said slowly. ⌠But no, I don▓t think I▓ve seen her since then. Hmm┘funny. We had a little celebration after OWLs were over, and I don▓t remember seeing her there either.■

⌠Has anyone seen Ginny Weasley today?■

There were lots of murmurs from the rest of the table, but the upshot was that no one had seen her after the exams were over.

⌠She▓s definitely not on here,■ Ron said, his eyes scanning the map frantically. ⌠Do you think Malfoy▓s got her? He was after her last year.■

Harry felt all the blood rush out of his face. ⌠Hermione, go get Professor McGonagall.■

As Hermione rushed off, Harry snatched the map from Ron▓s hands and together they pored over every inch of it, hoping her dot would reappear.

⌠It doesn▓t make sense,■ Harry muttered to himself. ⌠Malfoy is scared to death of her after what she did to him last year. He hasn▓t even looked at her this year.■

⌠Maybe it▓s someone else,■ Ron offered. ⌠She told us that all the Death Eaters knew He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wanted her.■

⌠I think Malfoy was the only one with enough guts to take her. And she took care of him. Besides, no one has bothered her this year. We would have known, wouldn▓t we? If someone was after her?■

Ron fisted his hands in his hair. ⌠Bloody hell, Harry, this is just like her first year. Ginny▓s missing, and I haven▓t a clue as how to find her. What kind of brother am I?■

Something Ron said clicked in Harry▓s brain. Just like her first year. Wait a minute. The conversation he▓d had with Ginny a while ago came rushing back. She wouldn▓t have, would she? By herself? After she promised?

⌠Of course she would,■ he muttered aloud. ⌠Silly little bint.■

⌠What?■ Ron stopped his pacing long enough to realize Harry was talking.

⌠I think I know where she is,■ Harry said, hurriedly folding up the map and shoving it in his pocket. He took out his wand. ⌠Accio broom!■

A split second later, Harry▓s Firebolt came zooming towards him, and he grabbed it out of the air. ⌠When Hermione gets back, take her and McGonagall to get Dumbledore and then take them all to Moaning Myrtle▓s bathroom.■

⌠Wait!■ Ron said as Harry sprinted for the portrait. ⌠Where▓s she gone?■ ■To the Chamber!■ Harry yelled back. ⌠I think!■

⌠Harry! I▓ll come with you!■ Ron vaulted after him out of the portrait doorway. ⌠Why would she go there?■

⌠You have to get Dumbledore!■ Harry shouted back right before he turned the corner at the end of the hallway. ⌠I▓ll leave the sink open for you!■

Ron threw up his hands in frustration as he turned the opposite way to head off Hermione and Professor McGonagall.

Harry ran for Moaning Myrtle▓s bathroom, urging his feet to grow wings so he could get there faster. He was pretty sure Ginny had gone down into the Chamber, but he had no idea how long she▓d been there. By all accounts, it could have been most of the day. He groaned aloud. There were a thousand things that could have happened to her down there, and they all flashed across his mind, each one worse than the last.

He wasn▓t sure he▓d ever been this scared for someone before. It was a direct contrast to the first time he▓d gone down into the Chamber of Secrets to rescue Ginny Weasley; then, he▓d been a concerned friend. Now he was a what? A close friend?

No. It was more. It always had been. His epiphany of the past few weeks had proven that. He┘he loved her.

Harry almost stopped still in shock as the words appeared out of nowhere. Considering his upbringing, Harry had never been sure he knew what love was. The closest he▓d ever come to it had been the way he knew he felt about Ron and Hermione┘and Ginny. But he realized now, in a bright, sweet moment of clarity, that what he felt for Ginny was far different than what he felt for his other friends. He loved her in a different way. He▓d known it┘but it was the first time he▓d admitted it. First time he▓d actually said the words out loud.

⌠I love her. I▓m in love with Ginny,■ he whispered to himself, testing the words on his tongue. They rolled out easier than he thought they would. He didn▓t choke on them; they didn▓t get stuck in his throat, they simply flowed out of his mouth as if he▓d been saying them all along.

Bloody hell, he▓d been stupid. For so long. He▓d always chalked up his attraction to lust; he▓d never wanted to consider anything else. Now he realized ≈ he▓d been in love with her the whole time; probably since that first time he▓d hugged her in the Astronomy Tower back in his third year. All the pieces inside of him aligned and clicked and he knew┘he knew.

He loved her.

He said the words over and over to himself; he couldn▓t believe he▓d been reluctant to even say them before. Now he couldn▓t stop. He chanted him in his head as he ran for Moaning Myrtle▓s bathroom.

The Chamber had closed itself after Ginny had entered, and so he had to waste valuable time hunting for something to prop the entrance open so the others could follow him down.

Descending into the Chamber on his broom was a lot easier and cleaner than the last time he and Ron had just jumped down. Navigating the tunnel was a bit tricky, but Harry was so worried he scarcely noticed.

Harry slowed his approach as he reached the second entrance. ⌠Open,■ he said in parseltongue, and the many locks that kept the door shut clicked open. He shuddered as he stepped through the opening, suppressing the memories of the last time he▓d done this. This time there was no reason to assume Voldemort was involved ≈ at least that was what he told himself.

He ran down the tunnel towards the familiar stone face of Salazar Slytherin and the pool in front. He smelled the decay of the Basilisk before he saw it; even now, he could hardly believe he▓d been able to slay the thing. When he neared the snake, the smell became overwhelming. Where was she?

He entered the main part of the Chamber and spun around, looking for the telltale red hair.

⌠Ginny!■ He was frantic to find her, but began to doubt himself. He▓d been so sure this was where she▓d gone. He wished he▓d been paying more attention to her the past few days, maybe then she would have told him she was coming down here. He▓d been so wrapped up in himself, worrying that she would be able to see that his feelings had changed.

⌠Ginny, answer me!■ He demanded.

He heard a soft moan behind him and turned around. Ginny sat slumped up against the far wall.

⌠Ginny!■ He stumbled towards her, nearly slipping on a puddle of water.

⌠Harry?■ Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and he fell down on his knees beside her. She looked up at him blearily.

⌠Harry?■

⌠Oh, Ginny.■ He bent over her and was going to take her into his arms until he noticed the bleeding gash on her forehead.

⌠You▓re hurt. Dammit, Ginny.■ Harry propped her head up in his lap and conjured up a white handkerchief. He dropped his wand on the floor and pressed the cloth to the cut, cursing himself for not learning a few healing spells. He struggled not to yell at her for being so stupid as to venture down here alone.

⌠Don▓t be mad at me,■ Ginny murmured.

Harry almost laughed; she knew him so well. ⌠I▓m not mad, Fury. I▓m just irritated with you.■

⌠Liar.■

Harry lowered his head and kissed her lightly on the lips. ⌠You scared me to death, you silly witch.■

⌠Sorry,■ she breathed, and he couldn▓t stop himself from kissing her again.

⌠I-I fainted, I think,■ she told him. ⌠I was just standing here and it sort of overwhelmed me, you know, the memories and that awful snake.■ She touched the gash on her forehead gently. ⌠I must have hit my head when I fell.■

She gingerly lifted her head and looked at the Basilisk laying half in and half out of the pool.

⌠Merlin, Harry, how on earth did you kill that thing?■

⌠Luck,■ Harry replied grimly. ⌠Otherwise, I have no idea.■

He wiped the blood from her face and shifted her weight so that he was holding her torso in his arms. She looked pale and dazed and even though he didn▓t think she was in any danger, his heart was still pounding in fear of losing her. Dumbledore▓s and Hermione▓s advice and even Ron▓s subtle hints suddenly made sense.

He swallowed the words in his throat and instead asked, ⌠What happened?■

She grimaced and tried to sit up. Harry helped prop her against the wall, but kept her cold hands between his.

⌠I just wanted to see,■ she said, ⌠you know┘like we talked about. I know I promised you I would find you, but I just had to do it myself.■

⌠We can fight about that later,■ he interrupted. ⌠What happened when you got down here?■

⌠Well, I nearly threw up on that awful snake,■ she gestured weakly to the rotting carcass, ⌠and I think I had some sort of seizure, and its possible Tom screamed and laughed at me in my head.■ She shuddered. ⌠Everything came rushing back, only it was real, you know?■ 

She sighed heavily and leaned her head on his shoulder. ⌠Anyway, thankfully, I soon passed out. I have no idea how long I▓ve been down here.■

⌠It▓s after dinner,■ Harry said shortly.

⌠Oh, Harry, I▓m sorry. You must have been so worried.■

⌠Terrified,■ he managed. ⌠You have no idea.■

⌠Poor Harry,■ she murmured, ⌠I don▓t deserve you. You care for me very much, don▓t you? ■

It was as if Fate herself was giving him this chance. He opened his mouth to say the words: I love you. To tell her exactly how much he cared. But he made the mistake of looking down at her; she had a small smile on her face, and her eyes were closed. He felt the words well up in him until she opened her eyes and looked straight at him.

⌠You▓re such a wonderful friend, Harry,■ she said softly. ⌠Thank you for coming after me.■

Harry felt his courage fail as he swallowed the bitter taste that word, ⌠friend,■ left in his throat. What if he ruined things? Could he learn to be happy with just being her friend?

He sighed and kissed her forehead. ⌠I▓ll always come after you, Gin. And yes, I care for you very much.■

⌠Me too.■

Harry swallowed heavily, ashamed at his own cowardice. He could sit here in Salazar Slytherin▓s Chamber of Secrets beside a giant basilisk he▓d killed when he was only 12 years old; but he couldn▓t tell the girl he loved how he felt about her.

When Ron, Hermione, Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore arrived in the Chamber of Secrets they found Harry and Ginny sitting side by side against a stone wall. Harry was lecturing Ginny fiercely about what she▓d done; she had her head on his shoulder, a small smile on her face.

⌠Is it so hard to leave a bloody note?■ He was asking hotly. ⌠You scared the lot of us. For all I knew, Voldemort had lured you down here again!■

⌠I▓m sorry,■ she murmured. ⌠You▓re absolutely right.■

⌠Well, I hope you▓ve learned your lesson,■ he huffed.

⌠Yup, I learned it well and good,■ she said sleepily. ⌠Never going to do it again. I promise.■

Harry seemed too involved in his lecture to recognize that Ginny was about to lose consciousness again. Ron noticed though, and he gently scooped his sister up in his arms and began carrying her back towards where she▓d left her broom. Her head lolled against his shoulder.

⌠Ron?■

"Yeah, it▓s me,■ he replied. ⌠I▓d lecture you too but I think Harry probably covered it all.■

She laughed faintly. ⌠He▓s so funny.■

Ron smiled. ⌠Yeah. But he was really worried about you. We all were.■

⌠I▓m sorry,■ she repeated. ⌠It was stupid of me. I just thought it would stop the nightmares, you know? Face my fears and all that┘■

⌠Did it work?■

⌠I don▓t know,■ she sighed. ⌠I▓ll let you know.■

She settled in his arms until he reached her broom. He set her on her feet and Hermione held her up before helping to settle her across Ron▓s lap after he mounted. Ron used one arm to hold Ginny against him and the other to guide the broom.

⌠I▓ll meet you in the hospital wing,■ he told Hermione who nodded and stepped back. She would fly back with Harry.

Ron flew Ginny carefully and cautiously back up the tunnel and past the rubble from the cave-in where that git Lockhart had once tried to do a memory charm on him and then began slowly ascending the tunnel that led down from Moaning Myrtle▓s bathroom.

⌠I thought of him, you know,■ Ginny said suddenly. The gash on her head was still bleeding, and Ron wondered just how much blood she had lost.

⌠Who?■

■Harry. I thought of him right before I passed out. Ron┘I think I have feelings for him.■ ■Course you do, you▓re good friends.■ They arrived in the bathroom, and Ron flew them out of loo. Picking up speed, he headed for the hospital wing.

⌠No, it▓s more,■ Ginny said. ⌠It▓s more than friends, Ron. But it scares me. I don▓t know what to do. Tom hates him, and I▓m afraid Harry will get hurt.■ She sighed heavily and buried her face in her brother▓s chest.

Realizing she was a bit delirious and probably would not be saying such things if she was at all in her right mind, Ron decided to say what he had wanted to say for a long time. The chances of her remembering this conversation were slim at best.

⌠You▓re in love with him, Ginny,■ he said bluntly. ⌠And he▓s in love with you. It▓s obvious to everyone except the two of you. When you get better, do the rest of us a favour ≈ snog the bloke and put him out of his misery. And Tom Riddle can▓t hurt Harry.■

⌠I▓ve already snogged him,■ she said dreamily. ⌠It was wonderful. But I messed it up. And then I dated Dean, but he wasn▓t as good.■

Ron shuddered at the thought of his sister and his best friend snogging and decided he didn▓t really want to know the details.

⌠Just tell him how you feel, Ginny. Get it over with.■

⌠But I don▓t know how I feel,■ she protested weakly.

⌠You▓re in love with him,■ Ron said impatiently. They reached the hospital wing and he dismounted the broom, hefting his sister up in both his arms. He entered the room just before she said, ⌠Maybe■ and passed out.

Although the wound on her head had bled profusely, it had only needed a few stitches. The bump had given her a concussion, but Madame Pomfrey released her the next afternoon, and a sheepish Ginny returned to the Gryffindor Tower.

As Ron had anticipated, Ginny did not remember the details of her conversation with him. She had the feeling she▓d said something embarrassing; her brother kept smiling knowingly at her and looking between her and Harry.

Harry refused to let her out of his sight; he said it was her punishment for disappearing. She ignored him, of course, and did whatever the hell she wanted now that exams were over. It became a sort of game between them. Ginny would do her best to escape him, and he would find her. He had an unfair advantage in the Marauders▓ Map, however, which forced Ginny to nick it once. When Harry caught her, there had been a lovely, high-speed chase through the hallways, and they▓d both nearly gotten detention.

There▓d also been an awkward moment with Dean where he had apologized for his behaviour and asked if he could write Ginny over the summer holidays. She had agreed, but wasn▓t entirely sure she wanted to work things out. He was a lot of fun and she cared for him; but something was missing.

Before Ginny knew it, it was time to pack her trunk and board the Hogwarts Express. She dreaded saying goodbye to Harry. He had to stay with his Aunt and Uncle again this summer, but only until he turned seventeen. Then, the protection his mother had left him would run out and he would have to find another place to live. Plans had already been made to tighten up security at the Burrow; Ginny knew her brother Bill and the twins had been working on some pretty fancy wards for the house and surrounding grounds. Dumbledore himself had worked on the security surrounding her parent▓s land and had made the house Unplottable.

Ginny sighed and watched the countryside speed past as they travelled to London. She and Harry were alone in the compartment while Ron and Hermione patrolled the train. Harry had fallen asleep with his head pillowed on her thigh only thirty minutes out of Hogsmeade.

She was nearly asleep herself when Harry gave a soft cry in his sleep. Startled, she looked down to find his face twisted in anguish. His head moved back and forth on her lap, and his hands were curled into fists. He gave another cry, and she knew she had to wake him up.

⌠Harry!■ She put a hand on his shoulder and shook gently. ⌠Harry, wake up!■

He awoke with a gasp and sat up, the top of his head nearly smacking Ginny in the chin as he did so. She reared back, and he just missed her. He sat with his back to her and took a few deep, calming breaths. Eventually she laid a gentle hand on his back.

⌠Harry?■ He stiffened when she touched him. ⌠I▓m fine,■ he said curtly.

Ginny dropped her hand. ⌠Well, great then. I▓m so glad you▓re okay,■ she said sarcastically.

Harry turned around. ⌠Sorry.■ He looked at her then, and Ginny had a hard time deciphering the look in his eyes. They glittered as they had never glittered before. He took her hand, and Ginny gulped because he had never looked at her with this sort of intensity.

⌠Ginny, I-■ he stopped.

⌠What?■ she urged. ⌠What is it, Harry?■ He gripped her hand tighter and took a deep breath. ⌠I need to-■ he broke off with a laugh, but it didn▓t sound like he found anything amusing.

⌠Never mind. I▓m going for a drink of water. Be right back.■ He dropped her hand and bolted for the door. Ginny thought she heard him mutter, ⌠I just can▓t do it■ right before the compartment door slammed shut behind him.

She leaned her head against the seat cushion and wondered what had happened in his dream to make him behave so bizarrely.

The train ride went quickly after Harry returned. Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna soon joined them and they played several games of Exploding Snap until they felt the train slowing as they pulled into King▓s Cross.

Ginny grinned when she saw her mother, standing alongside her brother Bill, waving frantically as they descended onto the platform. A series of back-breaking hugs followed, and before she knew it, they▓d exited the platform and were faced with a sour-looking lot of Dursleys.

Harry sighed when he saw them. ⌠Guess I▓d better get this over with.■

⌠It▓s only for a month,■ Hermione said encouragingly. ⌠We▓ll write you everyday.■

⌠Do I have to write back everyday?■ he asked warily.

She rolled her eyes, and then pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back, whispered something in her ear that made her blush and kissed her lightly on the cheek before turning to Ron. Ginny watched; she was amused at the way the two boys pretended they weren▓t going to miss each other. Their hug goodbye was mostly a series of thumps to the back and punches to the arms, but it was obvious they were sad about being separated.

When they were done with their odd male ritual, Harry turned to Ginny and Hermione dragged Ron away to say hello to her parents.

⌠I hate that you have to go,■ she said miserably.

⌠Me too. But it▓s only for a month. I▓ll be out of there and back at the Burrow before you know it,■ he said tenderly.

She stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He responded by hugging her around her waist. He lifted her off her feet, and she put her legs around his waist, wrapping her small form around him until he was the only thing she was touching in the crowded train station.

⌠I▓ll miss you,■ he mumbled into her hair. ⌠Be safe okay?■ ■Of course. I▓ll be surrounded by Weasleys. How could I possibly get into trouble?■ ■I don▓t know, but I▓m sure you▓ll find a way,■ he said dryly. He set her down then, kissing her lightly on the lips as he did so. He was subtle about it, she noticed, and she suspected he didn▓t want her mother or Bill to see him do it. They wouldn▓t understand such affection.

She bit her lip as he stroked the hair out of her face and behind one ear. ⌠You stay safe too, okay? Promise you▓ll get the hell out of there the moment you turn seventeen? He▓ll probably be waiting you know.■

⌠Dumbledore and I have it all worked out,■ he reassured her. ⌠He▓s going to come by in a few days and try to convince my Aunt and Uncle to let the Order relocate them for a while too. So maybe it won▓t be so bad.■

He stepped close again, and mindful of people watching, took her hand and played absentmindedly with her fingers. ⌠Ginny, there▓s something I need to-

⌠Come on, Potter!■ Harry▓s uncle, who▓d evidently reached the end of his patience, had stepped away from his family and was glaring at them.

Ginny glared back and his Uncle▓s face darkened while his Aunt gasped in shock. Harry stifled a chuckle and pulled her around to face the other direction.

⌠I▓ll write you, okay?■ He kissed her on the forehead and took a dramatic sniff of her hair before grabbing his trunk and walking towards his Aunt and Uncle. ⌠That▓s got to last me a whole month! I▓m going to have withdrawals!■

⌠I▓ll send you a bottle of my shampoo,■ she laughed. ⌠Or maybe a lock of my hair!■ ■Can▓t wait!■ he called back.

Ginny watched until he disappeared from sight, all too aware of the empty space inside of her that his absence had caused.

⌠C▓mon, Ginny,■ Ron said, grabbing her arm. ⌠He▓ll be fine. Let▓s go home.■ 


	19. Chapter 19 Crossroads

Chapter 19 

Harry stood in the centre of the smallest bedroom at No. 4 Privet Drive and surveyed the sparse furnishings. The thought that he had managed to pack everything he owned into his Hogwarts trunk was a little disconcerting, but not surprising. He'd done a thorough cleaning of the area and had thrown away lots of junk he'd been holding onto for years simply because they were things he could say he owned. The fact that they were broken or hand-me-downs from Dudley hadn't really mattered to a lonely kid. And after he started attending Hogwarts he'd been loath to throw anything away that was evidence of the wizarding world existing outside this house.

Damn, he couldn't wait to get out of this place.

This summer hadn't been as bad as the rest. The Dursleys had been thoroughly scared by Dumbledore's explanation of what could happen to them if they stayed in their home after Harry left. Most of the past month had been spent packing, unpacking and repacking the essentials they deemed worthy of relocating. Uncle Vernon seemed to blame Harry personally for the trouble, but Aunt Petunia had been so distracted she'd barely scheduled any cleaning chores for him. Harry had spent his days outside as much as possible and locked inside his room whenever he was forced to come inside. He ate the food Mrs. Weasley sent with Ron and Ginny's letters and generally avoided the Dursleys whenever he could.

A soft pop in the room announced Dumbledore's arrival. The Headmaster smiled genially at him and held up a tin cup they were using as a Portkey. It was nearly midnight, and the departure had to be timed exactly right if Harry was going to escape before Voldemort showed up.

"How are you?"

Harry shrugged. "Indifferent. It's weird to think I won't ever come back here, but I'm certainly not upset about it."

"That's understandable," Dumbledore said dryly. "Although one must not forget the experiences of one's youth. I daresay someday you will be able to see how they shaped you into the man you are becoming."

He motioned for Harry to place a finger on the Portkey. "I've timed it so it's set to go off the very second after the clock strikes midnight. You know the protection will end as soon as you no longer call this place home?"

Harry nodded and placed a finger on the cup. "And you're sure the Burrow is safe enough? I don't want to cause trouble for the Weasleys."

"It's as safe as I and others can make it," Dumbledore assured him. "And I assure you, that's saying something."

Harry grabbed the handle of his trunk firmly and Dumbledore took Hedwig's empty cage; she'd already flown onto the Burrow. The clock downstairs had barely struck midnight when the Portkey went off, and Harry disappeared from Privet Drive forever.

They arrived on a hill overlooking The Burrow and Dumbledore shoved the cup back into his pocket. "Quickly," he said. "We must get inside the wards as quickly as possible."

Harry knew that only he and Dumbledore could see the ramshackle house they were hurrying towards; the whole area was Unplottable to both muggles and wizards. Fortunately, Dumbledore had already performed the necessary enchantments on Harry and Hedwig so they could find the place.

As they passed the large oak tree that signalled the edge of the Weasleys' property, Harry felt a tingle on his skin as they passed through the wards and other protections. It was the same feeling he got when he arrived on the grounds of Hogwarts. Dumbledore relaxed, and they soon arrived at the back porch.

Mrs. Weasley threw it open before they reached the door and beamed at them through the porch light.

"Come in, come in," she cried, hugging Harry and beaming at Dumbledore. "Let's have a look at you. Goodness, you're skinny. Are you hungry, dear? I've got a lovely stew on. Sit down, and I'll fix you a bowl."

Harry, who knew better than to protest, thanked her gratefully before dragging his trunk to the edge of the stairs and returning to the kitchen table. He was pleased to see that Ron had waited up to see him.

"Hey, mate," Ron grinned, clapping him on the back. "Everything go okay?"

"Couldn't have been easier," Harry said, taking the seat next to him. "How's the summer so far?"

He shrugged. "Quiet and hot mostly. Hermione's coming in a few days. Happy Birthday, by the way."

"Oh," Harry said, surprised. "I'd almost forgotten. Thanks."

"Forgotten? You're seventeen now! You can do magic!"

"Eat up, Harry," Mrs. Weasley set a large bowl of beef stew in front of him and handed him a spoon. "And just because one is seventeen doesn't mean one can do unnecessary magic, Ronald."

Ron rolled his eyes when she turned back to the stove and went back to his own bowl of stew.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry was surprised she hadn't been there to greet him.

"Asleep. She's been sleeping a lot lately."

"Really?" Harry looked up at Ron. "Wonder why?"

Ron eyed him shrewdly. "I'm pretty sure you know why. But maybe it'll be better now that you're here."

It was the first time Ron had ever even halfway-acknowledged Ginny's habit of sleeping in Harry's bed. Harry knew that Ron had seen her in his bed at Hogwarts on several occasions after she'd had nightmares, but he'd never said anything. Harry assumed he had preferred not to think about his sister and best mate sharing a bed — even if it had been innocent.

Harry finished his stew quickly. Dumbledore left after Mrs. Weasley had forced a slice of cake and a cup of tea on him. He and Ron carried his trunk up the stairs to Percy's old room where Harry had stayed the past few summers and halted outside the closed door.

"Any word on Percy?" Harry asked.

Ron's face tightened. "No. Although I don't think things are going well. Fudge is a bloody idiot and Percy refuses to abandon him. Dad sees him sometimes at the Ministry, but doesn't talk about it. Mum still sends him letters, but he never writes back, the poncy git."

He yawned and punched Harry lightly on the shoulder. "Glad you're here. See you in the morning."

"Thanks, Ron. 'Night." Harry grabbed the handle of his trunk and entered the room, dragging the trunk behind him. He stowed it in the corner and, grinning to himself, pulled out his wand and unlocked the trunk using magic. It felt good to be seventeen.

Undressing quickly, Harry pulled on his pyjama bottoms and left off his shirt. It wasn't quite hot in the room, but there was a nice breeze blowing through the open window. He turned to pull the covers back on the mattress and froze when he saw a lump underneath the covers; someone was in his bed.

"_Lumos_." Harry lifted his wand and wasn't surprised to see Ginny asleep in the narrow twin bed. She was sleeping on her side, her cheek resting on her hands and her knees drawn up to her chest. He sighed and squatted down beside the bed, holding the light over the bed so he could see her.

She was so beautiful like this she took his breath away. He cursed the opportunities he'd wasted to tell her how he really felt about her. He'd nearly told her on the train coming back from Hogwarts and then later when they were saying goodbye. He'd initially told himself that he would explain things to her when he arrived at the Burrow, but over the past month, a chilling thought had occurred to him — one that made him even more reluctant to tell her how he felt. If Voldemort found out that he loved her, Ginny would be in even more danger than she already was. The evil git had already made moves to grab her, and if he knew Harry loved her...well, the possibilities were too terrifying to think about.

And if, by some miracle, Ginny returned his feelings, Voldemort would stop at nothing to separate them. Destroying the union of the Boy-Who-Lived and the girl he'd tried to possess would be far too tempting for him. Harry would rather keep Voldemort's attention focused on world-domination.

He brushed a stray piece of hair back from her face, and she stirred, but didn't wake. He was scared to death of losing her. There was no other excuse for it; he was a bloody coward.

He stood up, crossed to the other side of the bed and lifted the covers to crawl in behind her. He settled himself on the corner of the pillow she'd left him and dragged her flush against him, curling his body around hers. Inhaling the familiar, but sorely missed, smell of her hair, he drifted off to sleep.

Ginny awoke slowly with the most delicious feeling of warmth wrapped around her. She shifted and stretched against the hard chest at her back, pressing her head into warm flesh.

"Go back to sleep, Fury," a voice murmured sleepily in her ear and Ginny's heart lurched when she realized it was Harry who was in bed with her. Well that made sense; it was Harry's bed after all.

"Harry!" She turned to face him in the tiny bed and threw her arms around him.

"Mmm…I'm happy to see you too, now go back to sleep. S'too early to be up." He pulled the covers up around his shoulders and settled back against the pillows.

"Sorry, I'm awake now," she said regretfully. She kissed him on his temple and climbed out of bed.

"Now the bed is cold," he whined.

"I'm sure you'll survive," she said dryly. "Don't sleep too late; Mum will probably make you a giant birthday breakfast."

Harry opened one eye. "Breakfast?"

Ginny took a large sniff of the air. "Smells like pancakes, bangers and bacon. Better hurry up or Ron will eat it all."

Harry snorted and threw the covers back. "He's like the human shovel."

Ginny waited while he put on a shirt, and then he followed her downstairs. A chorus of "Happy Birthday" greeted him and he smiled when he noticed the small pile of presents near his plate. He opened them while shoving in forkfuls of Mrs. Weasley's delicious pancakes. Ron had gotten him some Quidditch gloves, and Ginny had framed a picture of the two of them. He fingered the frame while drinking his pumpkin juice. Colin had taken it at the end of last term. He and Ginny were by the lake and he was giving her a piggyback ride. They were laughing and smiling into the camera, and he was reminded of a certain picture of his parents that Hagrid had given him a few years ago.

Hagrid had sent some teeth-breaking rock cakes and a wicked looking knife that snapped down into its handle. While they were eating, Hermione's gift arrived; as predicted, it was a book but Harry appreciated the thought. The best gift was from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley; they gave him a watch similar to the one they'd given Ron last year when he'd turned seventeen.

"It's a traditional gift when a man comes of age," Mr. Weasley told him, and Harry was speechless at their thoughtfulness. He thanked them with a lump in his throat, and Mrs. Weasley turned back to the stove, a suspicious shining in her eyes.

"Mum and Dad want to give us a joint birthday party," Ginny informed him later. "You're seventeen now and I'll be sixteen, let's take 'em up on it and have a dance party."

Harry was doubtful, but she soon talked him into it. "There nothing else to do around here," she reasoned. "We might as well invite a few friends over and let Fred and George spike the punch for a laugh."

The party was planned for two weeks from Friday. Ginny had been busy making a list of invitations to send out, and she gave it to Harry for approval. It was good mix of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and — Harry was surprised to see — a few of Ginny's friends he hadn't known were in Slytherin. She shrugged when he asked her about it and said, "They're nice girls. Just because they're Slytherins doesn't mean they can't be friendly."

Harry ignored that and continued perusing the list. He stopped when he got to Dean Thomas' name.

"Dean Thomas?" he read slowly. "I thought you guys broke up."

"We did," she admitted. "But he's been writing me a lot and well, I might give him another chance. He's really sorry, and it's possible I overreacted a bit."

"I see," Harry said stonily. He handed back the list and said. "It's fine."

Harry's insides were twisting. If Ginny got back with Dean, the decision of whether or not he should tell her his feelings had changed would be taken out of his hands. He absolutely would not make a move on another man's witch.

"I put Parvati on there as well," she said helpfully. "Are you guys official now?"

It was his turn to shrug. "Dunno. I haven't asked her if that's what you mean. But she wrote me a few times last month. She's all right, I guess."

An odd look came over Ginny's face, but she shook it off and turned back to Harry's desk to begin addressing the invitations. Hedwig and Pig would deliver the invitations tomorrow.

He left her in his room, busily addressing hand-addressing envelopes, mumbling under her breath about the bloody age restrictions on magic. He could offer to do the charm for her, but it was far more entertaining to watch her suffer.

"Shite." Ginny slammed the lid of her school trunk shut. "Harry, I've lost my potions text, help me find it, won't you?"

"Gin, we still have nearly three weeks before we have to go back. Why are doing homework?"

She rolled her eyes. "I promised Hermione that I would have my potions essay finished by the time she arrives. I was trying to get a jump start on it."

"Since when do we listen to Hermione about doing our homework?" Harry grumbled. But he rolled off her bed and lifted up the bed ruffle to peer underneath. "Blimey. And I thought my room was a mess."

"I listen to Hermione since she worked like a dog to help me on my OWLS," Ginny informed him. Her voice was somewhat muffled as she was on her knees, face first in her closet. Harry took a moment to appreciate her backside before shaking his head and looking back underneath the bed.

It was a myriad of parchments, paperback novels, an old stuffed bunny that didn't seem to appreciate being woken up and a metal tin whose insides clinked when he nudged it.

"I'm going to go check your room," Ginny announced. "I might have left it in there the other day."

She left the room and Harry turned back to the metal tin he'd been in the process of shoving out of the way. The lid had fallen off, and Harry peeked inside. The entire box was full of vials. Most were empty but a few still had a pinkish-grey liquid swirling inside. He scooted back and pulled the tin out with him. He held a full vial up to the light. This looked like-

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked harshly. She was standing in her doorway her potions text clenched in one hand. She stepped hurriedly into the room and shut the door firmly behind her. "Put that back."

Harry's eyes narrowed, and he examined her face for the signs of what he now suspected. "Why do you have all these vials?" he asked slowly. "What are you taking?"

"They're for cramps," she answered defiantly. "Put them away."

She was lying, and he knew it. "The potion you take for cramps is red," Harry said. "This potion is pink and grey, just like a dreamless sleep potion."

Ginny blinked at him in astonishment. "I don't know which is scarier — the fact that you know what colour potion I take for my period or the fact that you actually know what colour a dreamless sleep potion is supposed to be."

"This isn't a joke, Ginny," Harry said fiercely. "Why have you been using so much dreamless sleep potion? This stuff can be addictive. You _know_ that!"

Ginny deflated under his piercing gaze. Her shoulders slumped, and she stared at her feet. Harry placed the vials back into the tin and put the lid back on firmly. Ginny suddenly inhaled sharply and pivoted to face the door. She drew back her arm and hurled her potions text at the wall as hard she could. It hit with a loud thud, and then slid down the wall to the floor where it lay, its pages moving in the slight breeze that came in through the open window.

Harry sprang up and wrapped his arms around her, knowing Ginny was going to either explode in anger or tears. He held her until she stopped struggling and slumped against him. He took advantage of her momentary weakness to scoop her up and carry her over to the bed where he settled her in his lap and held her silently, waiting for her to confess.

"I've been receiving them by owl post from the apothecary in Diagon Alley," she said finally. Her voice was muffled against his neck. "It's Tom, he's been coming almost every night. It's like he can't break through when I'm awake, but when I fall asleep, I get nightmares and then suddenly he's talking to me — even after I wake up."

"What kinds of things does he say?"

"Horrible things," she shuddered. "He tells me which families he's going to kill, what he's going to do to my family, to you…" Her voice trailed off.

"Sometimes he describes exactly what he's going to do, and other times he just shows me," she said finally. "And even though I know it's not always true, it's hard to sleep after something like that."

"I bet it's sort of like watching one of the Muggle horror movies," Harry said quietly. "Dudley snuck out once and watched one late at night on television and had nightmares for two weeks afterwards."

She didn't respond other than to take a shaky breath and snuggle further into his lap. He held her tighter and tried to ignore how perfect she seemed to fit into his arms.

"Do you remember what you said to me just before that inquiry at the Ministry after your first year?"

Ginny actually _did_ remember, but she wasn't too keen on being reminded of it right now.

"You said that you were through with letting Tom Riddle or anyone else scare you," Harry reminded her softly. Ginny lifted her head to look at him. "I reckon letting him stop you from going to sleep is letting him scare you." Her eyelashes were wet with unshed tears, but her face had a hard, blazing look that he knew all too well.

"Ginny," he murmured. He leaned down and brushed a chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth. "Please stop taking the potions. He's got to know that he can't get to you like that. You can't let him beat you."

Ginny huffed and pushed herself away from him. She slid off his lap to sit next to him on the bed and leaned against the headboard. "I don't know if I can do it," she said finally, not looking at him.

Harry scoffed. "You're Ginny bloody Weasley. You can do just about anything you set your mind to. You can do _this_," he insisted. "It'll be tough the first few nights, but use your Occlumency to block him out. He'll get the hint."

"So what, Harry? He'll just find another way to get to me. To you. To all of us!"

"And we'll fight every one of them," Harry said firmly. "Now come on. Either you stop taking the potions or I'll tell your mum." He grinned at her suddenly. "Or worse, I'll tell Hermione."

"Bastard," Ginny swore at him. She grabbed a pillow from behind her back and smacked it at his face. He laughed, took the pillow from her and used it to cushion his own back against the headboard.

"Fine," she said resignedly. "But when Tom visits me tonight and I'm a bloody bitch tomorrow, I'm taking it out on you."

"Fair enough," Harry conceded. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. "I'll come over, yeah? If I hear you screaming."

Ginny's eyes softened when she looked at him. "Will you do that thing where you rub circles on my back?" She let go of his hand to take his arm and place it around her shoulders. "I love that."

He laughed again and pulled her tightly against his side. "Yeah," he said, rubbing his chin on the top of her head affectionately. "I'll do that. Will you do that thing where you flash your knickers at me and cling to me like a helpless female?"

"Git," she said, and used her other hand to pinch his side. "I do not cling to you."

"But you'll still do the knickers thing?"

Ginny couldn't help herself, and she laughed at him. "If I flash my knickers at you after a nightmare, I assure you, it's purely by accident."

"Yeah," Harry sighed dramatically. "I know. Pity that." He disentangled himself from her embrace and got off the bed. "A guy can dream though, can't he?"

He picked up the tin containing the rest of her dreamless sleep potions and tucked it underneath his arm. "I'm taking this with me by the way. If things get really bad you can have another one in a few weeks."

She looked up at him, a sudden anxious look on her face. "Harry…thanks. For being here."

He cocked his head at her. "You know better than that," he chided quietly. "You don't have to thank me."

"Yeah," Ginny admitted with a grin. "But I know how you like to feel appreciated."

He grinned back at her and leaned over, presenting his cheek to her. "Kiss me," he demanded.

She complied and Harry closed his eyes briefly when he felt her soft lips against his skin. "Thanks," he said, straightening up. "I'm going to get Ron for a fly. Why don't you come out after you've worked on your essay?"

Ginny nodded and slid off the bed to retrieve her potions book. She was rummaging back in her school trunk for some parchment when Harry closed the door behind him. After he'd gone, she stopped and rested her forehead on the lid of the propped-open trunk. The emotions caused by his tenderness and the care he showed for her surged up inside her, and she struggled for a few minutes to tamp them down. Once they were locked away, she pulled out a sheaf of unused parchment and settled at her desk with a quill. She heard a loud "whoop!" from outside her window and looked to her left just in time to see Harry and Ron speed past on their broomsticks.

Ginny was struck with the sudden need to fly; to feel the wind blowing through her hair and the freedom that came whenever she was on her broomstick. She sighed and looked back at her homework. Better get it over with and then she could relax all she wanted.

"No!"

The strangled cry woke Harry up immediately. He sat up in bed, his heart racing and his ears straining to listen. _Ginny_. He'd tried to stay awake as long as possible so he could be there when she needed to be woken up from her nightmare, but after 2 a.m., his eyes had closed involuntarily.

"No!" The cry was louder this time, and Harry scrambled to get out of bed. He grabbed his wand, opened his door and padded across the hallway to Ginny's room, silently thanking Mrs. Weasley for giving him the room closest to hers. He shut Ginny's door softly behind him and quickly cast a silencing charm on the room.

Ginny was on her back, the sheets twisted around her pale legs, her head tossing back and forth on her pillow. Her face was strained and she was mumbling, probably having a conversation with Tom Riddle. Anger surged up in Harry. She shouldn't have to go through this night after night. She was his friend dammit (he ignored the part inside him that howled with indignation at the inadequate word) and he hated to see this happen to her.

"Harry," Ginny whimpered, still asleep. She said something in parseltongue that Harry couldn't quite catch, and he hurried to her bedside.

He sat down next to her on the mattress and shook her shoulder. "Ginny," he said gently. "Ginny, wake up." She didn't respond and he shook her harder, whispering her name urgently. He smoothed her tangled hair back from her sweaty forehead and said her name louder. "Ginny!"

Her eyes flew open and they scanned the room rapidly before coming to rest on his face hovering over her. Once she recognized him, her face crumpled, and he quickly gathered her to him, holding her tightly against his chest.

"Harry," she breathed. "You're here? You're okay?" The words were strained as if she was trying to hold back a flood of tears.

"I'm fine," he assured her. He kissed her sweaty temple and discreetly pulled her nightshirt down over her knickers. As much as he enjoyed looking at her bum, this really wasn't the time for it. Though, a part of his brain _had_ registered the bright red fabric.

Harry rocked her in his arms as she cried softly into his shoulder. He truly hated this for her, especially as he knew what it was like, but he relished these moments when she let him comfort her. She was always so hard, so capable most of the time, that he savoured the moments when she didn't try to hide her need for him.

"C'mon, lay down on your stomach," he urged after awhile. She complied, and he stretched out beside her, one hand massaging soft circles on her back. She sighed softly and closed her eyes as his hand traced her shoulder blades and ran down the bumps in her spine. He leaned down again and kissed her temple.

"It's _fine_," he said again. "You are safe, he isn't here, and I won't let anything bad happen to you."

She opened her eyes and sniffed. "You'll stay?"

"I'll stay," he confirmed. He set his wristwatch to beep at 6 a.m. so he could sneak back to his room before Mrs. Weasley got up. Things were hard enough without drawing more attention to themselves.

Harry sat up and reached for the bedclothes she'd kicked to the edge of the bed. He untangled them and covered them both up, shifting back onto his side so he could continue to rub her back. Ginny scooted closer to him and closed her eyes again as he settled back onto her pillows.

"I clung like a helpless female again, didn't I?" she asked quietly.

Harry smiled into the darkness. "Yeah, you did. It was great."

She snorted into the mattress. "Glad I can feed your manly ego, Potter."

"I got to see your knickers too. Lovely shade of red by the way."

She huffed and rolled onto her side, snuggling her back against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her waist and sighed happily before closing his eyes.

"You know you're the only one I'd ever cling to like that, don't you?" she said softly.

Ginny felt a feather-light kiss brush the side of her neck. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I know."

Harry stood in the shadows of the trees behind the Burrow. He watched the dancing couples in front of him with glittering eyes, focusing almost exclusively on one particular couple.

The party was a success. Almost everyone had shown up to Harry and Ginny's joint birthday party; it had been like a mini-Hogwarts reunion. It was odd to see so many of his classmates outside of school.

Harry growled to himself when Dean's hands slipped a little further down Ginny's back. The git had been dancing with her for three straight dances; the last two had been slow songs. Ginny seemed cautious around him, although Dean had made no attempt to hide his eagerness for a second chance.

Harry had danced with her too, but they had been fast dances filled with exhilarated fun. He'd danced the slow ones with Hermione, a beaming Mrs. Weasley, and when he'd exhausted those routes: Parvati.

It wasn't that he didn't like Parvati — she was pleasant enough. It was that from the moment she'd seen him, she'd acted like they were star-crossed lovers who had been forced to separate for the summer. She assumed they were a couple, even though they had only been on one date. When she had arrived, she had thrown her arms around him and tried to kiss him. He'd escaped her clutches, but barely. By the time he managed to excuse himself, Ron and the twins had been nearly beside themselves with laughter.

Harry took another swig of the Firewhisky in his glass, his gaze swinging back to Ginny. Fred and George had not only spiked the punch, they'd presented him with real Firewhisky insisting it was part of turning seventeen. The first sip had gone down like fire and had nearly burned his insides. By the third sip, his insides were almost numb, and he'd been able to enjoy it.

Eventually the party had gotten too raucous, too crowded, and he had slipped away to watch from a distance. Parvati didn't seem to notice his disappearance, caught up as she was in her group of friends. Ron and Hermione were wrapped up in each other, and Ginny kept casting anxious glances over the crowd of dancers, peering at the people standing on the edges. He wondered if she was looking for him.

It was while watching her that Harry had understood something: It didn't matter if she went back with Dean or if the timing wasn't right for them. Deep down, Ginny was his. She was meant for him; as he was meant for her. No other explanation could possibly make sense. What he felt for her was entirely too big for one person to handle; so it was no wonder that if she felt the same, she was running from it as fast as her fabulous legs could carry her.

His mind flashed back to that night in the Department of Mysteries when Bellatrix had fixed her fanatical eyes on Ginny. Harry had seen the insanity in them, and he'd immediately stepped in front of Ginny. He'd been willing to protect her with his life.

And if he was willing to die for someone then maybe it was time he had the courage to love them as well.

He watched now as she excused herself from Dean and left the dance floor. She walked to a manmade trail Harry knew led to the pond, but that was nearly hidden in the moonlight. With a final look back at the partygoers, she disappeared behind the bushes and down the path.

Harry pushed himself up from the tree trunk and took a final swig of the Firewhisky. He tossed the now empty glass to the ground and went after her, intent on finally growing a pair of balls and forcing the inevitable confrontation — Voldemort be damned.

He was tired of this silent and stoic shit.


	20. Chapter 20 The End of Silence

_**A/N: You are really going to hate me at the end of this chapter. But keep going. The next one makes it all better. Also, parts of this chapter were taken directly from Battlestar Galactica's Season 3.**_

Chapter 20

Ginny was standing at the edge of the pond, her arms crossed over chest to ward off the night-time chill. Harry came up behind her. He stood still and silent, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. She knew he was there.

"Do you love him?"

The question came out of nowhere, Harry's quiet voice cutting through the silence.

"What?" She turned to face him, a questioning expression on her face.

"It's a simple question, Ginny. Do. You. Love. Him."

She didn't have to ask who he meant; she'd seen him watching her and Dean all evening.

"Are you in love with Parvati?" Ginny countered. She had a bad feeling about the direction of this conversation.

"No," Harry shook his head. "But she's not in love with me either. And we've only been on one date and exchanged a few letters. It's casual. It's not like you and Dean."

Ginny remained silent. She'd already known that, but it was nice to have it affirmed.

"Your turn now. Are you in love with Dean?"

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know."

Harry took a tipsy step towards her. And then another. She watched him warily as he came close enough to touch. "Well, then what's the point, Ginny? I mean, if you don't love him, what's the point of putting up with him? Of taking him back?"

"I'm sixteen years old, Harry. I don't have to be in love with someone to be with them."

"You think you're too young to be in love?"

Ginny shifted her stance uncomfortably. "Yes. Maybe. I don't know. Harry, what is the point of this conversation?"

"You said a couple of years ago that you had a crush on me when you first met me. Was that love then?"

"I don't know," she repeated. "I know I felt something when we first met. But was it love? I don't _know_ Harry. I was ten years old."

"Well, what DO you know?" he asked impatiently.

"I know that you are the one thing in my life that makes no sense and complete sense at the same time," she told him, a sudden grin twitching at the corners of her mouth.

He grinned back. "That didn't make much sense, but I understood it anyway." He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her closer until her crossed arms touched his chest. "Do you know what I know?"

She had to tilt her head back to look up at him. His eyes were glowing green in the moonlight and determination was written on his face. "What? What do you know?"

"I know that you have been running from me since the Chamber."

Ginny inhaled sharply and tried to pull away, but Harry held her firmly in his grasp. He couldn't believe he'd been so bold. Must've been the firewhisky talking.

"I have never run from you," Ginny said in a low voice. "I'm not afraid of you."

"I didn't say you were," Harry pointed out. "Your right hook is proof that you are definitely not afraid of me. I meant that you've been running from _us_."

Ginny twisted in his arms and pushed hard, effectively shoving him back a few steps. "There isn't any us, not the way you mean," she said sharply. "What are you talking about?"

Her eyes narrowed, and Harry knew he was in danger of being hexed. He didn't care. He'd wanted to say this for a long time, but had just now worked up the courage to do so. He'd tried waiting for her to come to him, knowing that if he pushed her she'd run the other direction. But her stubbornness was unbelievable. They'd been dancing around each other for years and tonight, after watching her with Dean and having had a bit too much to drink, he was tired of the dancing.

"I'm talking about _this_."

He palmed the back of her head and yanked her forward until she stumbled into him. He bent his head and claimed her mouth, his lips moving against hers urgently. He was afraid she would make him stop, but he didn't want to stop; kissing her was like taking flight and coming home all in the same breath. His heart surged when he felt her began to kiss back, and his hands came up to cup her face. Softly, gently, he broke the kiss and lifted his head to look in her eyes. Regardless of what her mouth might say, Harry knew he could always find the truth in her eyes.

Harry's thumbs caressed her cheekbones as they examined each other. His eyes were asking her, begging her to not push him away this time, to admit that they meant something to each other — something beyond friendship.

Ginny had felt his kiss straight down to her toes. If she was honest with herself, she knew she had wanted to kiss Harry every day for the past four years. Ginny didn't like being honest with herself — especially when it involved Harry and the spark that had always existed between them. Everything between them was just so…complicated. She had lied earlier when she said she wasn't afraid of him — she was afraid of how he made her feel, of how he made her _want_…and she always had been.

But right now, standing there, when her lips were still tingling from his kiss, and her body was humming with something she'd been ignoring for years, Ginny couldn't stop her eyes from betraying her emotions. When Harry bent his head and kissed her again, she knew he had seen the longing for him to continue.

This kiss was soft and tender, as if she was fragile and would break. Ginny felt a lump in her throat. Harry was the only one who'd ever seen past the hard shell she worked hard to construct. Of their own accord, her arms slid around his waist, and her hands traced up his back as he increased the fervour of their kisses. Soon, he was sliding his tongue past her lips and tilting her head back so he could taste her thoroughly.

Harry groaned when their tongues tangled for the first time. She tasted like treacle tart and Butterbeer — both things they'd eaten at the party — but underneath those flavours was something else, something he instinctively knew was inherently Ginny. He'd tasted her before, but had shoved the memory away. Kissing her again, he couldn't remember why he hadn't forced her to do this again and again.

They pressed closer to each other and Ginny whimpered when Harry's hands slid down her neck and shoulders, lightly tracing her collarbones before sliding down her arms and around her torso. He held her tighter, even while he plundered her mouth. Eventually he tore their mouths apart and pressed urgent kisses just underneath her jawbone. She arched against him when his lips fastened onto her neck, and he tightened his grip even further so he could hold her still. His mouth moved against her neck, pressing hot, open-mouth kisses and licking her skin until the taste of it filled his mouth and the scent of her perfume and shampoo filled his nostrils.

Her hands were roaming his back urgently, and while Harry feasted on her neck, she tugged his shirt out of his trousers and slipped her hands underneath to touch his skin. They both groaned at the contact and Harry's hands slid down to cup her bum possessively.

Normally Harry would have been nervous about where to touch, what to do, how far to go, but gods this was _Ginny_; she'd been a part of him for years and touching her felt like the most natural thing in the world.

He slid his mouth back up to hers, nibbling on the taut tendon in her neck as he went. For a wild moment, he wished he were a vampire so he could perhaps sink his teeth _into_ her and taste even further. He left one hand on her bum and slid the other back up to fist in her hair as he slanted his lips over hers again. She gasped into his mouth, and her hands fumbled to untuck his shirt completely so she could run them up and down the sides of his waist. Her fingers traced above the waistband in the front of his jeans, and Harry was suddenly aware of his arousal. If her hands moved down just a little further, he was probably going to embarrass them both.

"Harry, _please_," she whimpered against his mouth. But he couldn't make himself stop; couldn't make himself stop touching her or holding her head still so he could dip his tongue into her mouth over and over again. He learned quickly to breathe through his nose so their kisses would last longer, and when they did have to pull away, it was only so they could take gasping breaths before meshing their mouths back together again. Harry felt his knees bending, and he dragged her to the ground beside the pond.

They were on their knees when Ginny finally gave into her basic impulse: touching all of Harry's skin. Now. She started pushing Harry's t-shirt up and over his stomach until it was bunched underneath his arms and tugged at it until he impatiently tore his mouth from hers and wrenched the shirt off. She moaned in appreciation when his arms came back to slide around her waist and he began pushing her onto her back.

He laid her on the ground and propped himself up and over her on his arms, panting as he stared down at her. Her cheeks were flushed; her hair wild from where he'd tangled his fingers. Her lips were rosy red and swollen, and she had several red marks on her neck. Her chest was heaving and when he met her eyes, he knew she wanted this as much as him.

"Are you sure?" he asked huskily. "Ginny, you just have to say and we'll stop."

"I don't want to stop, Harry," she said. "I just want you."

"Say that again," he whispered. He lifted shaking hands to either side of her head.

"I want you, I've always wanted you." The confession was out of her mouth before Ginny could stop herself.

Harry's eyes closed at her honesty, and his forehead dropped down to touch hers.

"It's always been you, Gin," he managed hoarsely. "Only, ever you."

Gods help him, he wanted her too. It felt like he always had. He straddled her thighs and sat up on his knees before reaching down to slowly unbutton her blouse. She kept her eyes fastened on his as he exposed her and brushed back the fabric before gently filling his hands with her lace-covered breasts.

"Beautiful," he whispered before bending down and trailing his mouth around the edges of her bra. His tongue dipped down to taste the skin between her breasts, and her breath hitched when his mouth suckled her through the fabric.

"Harry!" she gasped.

Ginny gasping his name was all it took for the rest of Harry's control to break. The next few minutes were a blur as they tumbled over the ground, both fighting to remove each other's clothing. First Harry was on top, and then Ginny flipped him over to trail kisses down his chest and nuzzle his navel with her nose while unbuckling his belt. When she unzipped his trousers, he decided she still had too many clothes on and sat up to relieve her of her bra. He then pushed her over until he was on top of her again — one hand protecting her bare back from the damp ground while the other fumbled with the button on her shorts and tugged them past her hips.

The touching, and the…_oh, Merlin_…places they were being touched were new for both. But Ginny instinctively knew that she'd never feel more alive than she did right now with Harry. Tom was a distant memory. The only person inside was her own self and her self only needed Harry to survive.

Harry felt like he was in some sort of walking dream where — instead of the usual fumblings of a 17-year-old boy — he knew exactly how to touch and give her pleasure. With Ginny, he didn't feel self-conscious or scared; everything felt as if they'd done this with each other before. No one had ever gotten so close, and Harry knew it was because he'd been waiting for her. They'd been waiting for each other.

Her hips were arching towards him, her hands seeking, and Harry knew the point of no return had long passed. He didn't hesitate, even though he knew he should — what they were about to do would change their relationship forever — and when she whispered "don't stop," he knew he couldn't. When he felt her surrounding him finally, he stopped and stared down at her in wonder. Her eyes were wide, a tiny tear escaping from her left eye. He bowed his head and licked the trickle away, savouring the saltiness on her skin.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded but took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just, I didn't expect-"

"I've heard it can really hurt the first time," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Ginny-"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I DID expect it to hurt. I'm surprised that it doesn't that's all."

Harry moved his hips slowly. "That doesn't hurt?"

"No. It did a bit at first but then-" she stopped, a smiling breaking over her face. "It feels wonderful and beautiful and it's like you _belong_ there. Oh, Harry…"

She wrapped her arms and legs around him and he let his head drop onto her shoulder while she pressed frantic kisses on his face, his jaw and his neck. Eventually he had to go faster, and he was surprised he could form a coherent thought, let alone whisper to her the secret he'd kept hidden in the deepest part of his soul. She looked up at him, eyes wide with passion and shock before breaking into a teary-eyed, but beautiful smile. He moved even faster then, and she moved with him until, amazingly, they both reached the edge together. Their eyes locked, and Ginny gasped the treasured words back to him right before they fell in unison, their cries echoing in the clearing.

A few gentle kisses while they both came down, and then Harry was rolling off her. He collapsed next to her on the ground, his chest still heaving. Ginny lifted a shaking hand to brush the hair off her brow and willed her heartbeat to slow down. She blew out a sharp breath.

"Well that makes things more complicated."

"Yeah," he said with a note of disbelief in his voice. He was still in shock. Even in his wildest dreams Harry had never imagined sex would be like that. He suspected it would only be that good with Ginny.

"What – what are we going to do?" She shifted her head to look at him.

Harry rolled to his side and propped himself up on his left elbow to look down at her. "What are we going to do? We're going to accept it. Tomorrow, you'll tell Dean, and I'll tell Parvati."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he confirmed. He kissed the tip of her nose.

"I don't know-"

"Ginny," he interrupted. "We have to tell them."

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts," he said. "We're not going to hide this. We're going to tell everyone. We're going to-to…shout it to the skies."

She couldn't help but grin at him. "Oh, you are, huh? You're going to shout it to the skies?"

"Damn right I am. Wait. You don't think I will?" he smirked at her and leaned in, kissing her once, twice before he got to his feet and walked, naked, to the edge of the pond. He felt a welling inside of him like something was bursting to get out. He didn't think he'd ever been this happy before.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

He didn't answer her; just stood at the edge of the pond and took a deep breath before lifting his arms to the sky and shouting: "MY NAME…IS HARRY POTTER…AND I LOVE…GINNY WEASLEY!" He yelled so loud his face turned red and the tendons in his neck strained with the effort.

Ginny laughed at him, a delighted happiness bubbling forth. He laughed with her before suddenly shouting again: "HARRY POTTER LOVES GINNY WEASLEY! AND I DON'T CARE WHO BLOODY KNOWS IT!"

He turned back to look at her, a wide grin on his face. "That felt good. Very freeing. You should try it."

"You're crazy," she giggled.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm not going to stop until you get up and do it too."

Her body was shaking with laughter and joy, but she managed to shake her head no. "No way," she giggled. "I can't. You look ridiculous."

He laughed and shook his head. "Well, okay then, here we go again." He turned back to the water and took another deep breath. "HARRY POTTER-"

"Okay, okay, I'll do it!" Ginny interrupted, scrambling to her feet. She crossed her arms over her naked chest and ran lightly over the grass to join him at the water's edge. It was suddenly a little chilly and she rubbed her arms, trying to warm them with friction.

She stood in front of Harry facing the water and stared up at the sky. She opened her mouth. "GINNY WEASLEY-" her voice broke and she stopped. There was a lump in her throat and a tightening of her heart. She took a deep breath and tried again.

"GINNY WEASLEY LOVES HARRY POTTER!"

She shouted with everything that was inside of her and discovered that Harry was right — it was freeing to finally admit what they'd both been trying to deny. She squealed and turned to face Harry who was grinning at her with a light in his eyes she'd never seen before.

He didn't say anything; he just wrapped his arms around her and kissed her thoroughly until her knees felt like buckling. And when they did, he scooped her and carried her back to the makeshift bed they'd made of their discarded clothes. He laid her down gently and loomed over her.

She met his eyes and smiled. The rest of the world had stopped existing. There was only her and Harry and for this night at least, they would forget about Tom Riddle and his bloody Death Eaters. They would forget about everything except each other.

She couldn't promise tomorrow, but she had no will to deny them both tonight.

Ginny woke slowly, with a gradual awareness of where she was. She was not, as she'd expected, in her bedroom at the Burrow. She was lying on the banks of the pond behind the house on a pallet of Harry's clothes, her head resting on his chest, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. She pressed a soft kiss to the skin beneath her and moved gently out of his embrace. She sat up slowly and placed his arm next to him on the ground.

Details of the night before came rushing back to her, and she looked down at Harry. He was so beautiful. A slight breeze was stirring the messy locks of his hair, and he was gloriously naked.

She sighed. Last night she couldn't remember why they'd taken so long to be together; why they'd fought so much against it. But now, the reasons came soaring back with a vengeance. There was Dean and Parvati and Tom Riddle.

She felt a stirring deep inside her and knew that Tom had just figured out where she was and whom she was with. The snake inside her reared its head and hissed warnings to her. He would kill him. He would take Harry away from her if she stayed with him.

Ginny pressed a shaking hand to her mouth and held back a sob. She knew he was telling the truth. Tom had never let her go and he never would. He'd used her to hurt Harry before, and he would do it again. She remembered the way Harry had made love to her and the joy on his face after she'd shouted out her love for him. If she stayed, Tom would stop at nothing to rip them apart. Everything they had tentatively built between them last night — it would all disappear, and it would be her fault. Harry would die and she couldn't stand the thought of never seeing him laugh again.

But if she left him now, if she pretended like this hadn't happened, then it would still disappear. He would hate her for what she had done. They would probably stop being friends, and he would go back to Parvati or find someone else.

_But_, a voice whispered slyly in her ear, _at least he would still be alive._

How could she do it? How could she leave him after what they'd shared? As if in answer, a sudden pain erupted in her head and Tom showed her a vision of exactly what he would do if she stayed with Harry. In the vision, he'd used her to lure Harry into a trap and held her captive while he tortured Harry until he put him out of misery with a killing curse. He showed her the burning Burrow and the bodies of her family members stacked up like a deck of cards. All because she'd decided to love Harry.

Ginny knew the visions Tom showed her weren't necessarily real. They were only products of his imagination. She knew why he wanted her to leave Harry — Tom would do anything to make him miserable. And for some obscure reason, Tom wanted Ginny for himself. But if there was even the slightest chance that she would be used against Harry — just for some sick fuck's idea of world domination — she couldn't take that chance. She would rather him be alive. People around her died, and she couldn't let that happen to Harry.

With an ache in her head and a wrenching hole in her chest Ginny got quietly to her feet and gathered her clothes from where Harry had flung them the night before. She dressed silently while keeping her eyes on him to make sure he wasn't waking up. It was still really early. She could probably sneak back into the Burrow before anyone else woke up.

She slipped her shoes back on and gazed her final fill of him sleeping peacefully, a small smile on his face. She sighed inaudibly and turned towards the Burrow. Ginny felt numb, as if she was moving in a trance. Somehow her feet found the path back to the Burrow, and she made her way home without looking back.

Harry woke suddenly, as he often did, and squinted against the sunlight poking through the trees. He fumbled for his glasses beside him and sat up slowly, looking for Ginny.

"Ginny?" he called.

There was no answer.

He sat up and took in his surroundings. Her clothes were gone and he smiled when he remembered how quickly he'd taken them off last night. He glanced down at his watch and noted the time. It was nearly lunchtime. He supposed she'd gotten up and had gone back to the Burrow so her mum wouldn't go looking for her. Still, it was odd that she hadn't woken him up as well. He frowned.

He dressed quickly, stopping every once in awhile to clutch his aching head and groan. He was never drinking Firewhisky again. He stumbled back to the Burrow on the winding path and walked into a group of the Weasleys cleaning up the yard from the previous night's party.

"Hey, mate!" Ron called cheerfully. He and Hermione were banishing conjured chairs. "You look like hell!"

"Thanks," Harry said dryly. He noticed a few of the Weasley brothers smirking at him, but he was more concerned with finding Ginny. His eyes scanned the yard, looking for the long red hair.

When he finally found her, he had to put out a hand to catch himself on a nearby chair as his heart leapt in his throat, and his breath left him. He suddenly felt sick. Ginny was walking with Dean across the yard. They were holding hands and as Harry watched, Dean leaned down and brushed a kiss on her temple.

"Sickening, isn't?" Ron said, following Harry's gaze. "They worked things out this morning. Apparently Ginny sent a letter to him this morning, and he Flooed over here so they could make up."

Harry felt like he was in some sort of nightmare. The couple was walking towards him, and when his eyes met Ginny's, he knew, he _knew_, that she'd chosen Dean over him. That she'd changed her mind about being with him and he'd lost her — before he even really had her. There was no need to hurt Parvati's feelings today, but he couldn't find in himself to even care. The one person he wanted, the only person he'd always wanted, had just thoroughly rejected him. And she hadn't even had the courage to tell him face to face.

Dean and Ginny slowed when they reached Harry, and Harry found that he couldn't look away from her.

"Morning, Harry!" Dean said. He was smiling, the git. "Ginny and I made up, isn't it great? She contacted me this morning — said she'd accept my apology." He looked at Ginny fondly. "I told her I'd stop screwing it up."

Harry ignored him for a moment, his eyes fastened on Ginny's. "So it was your idea?" he asked her slowly.

She plastered a smile on her face. It might have fooled Dean, but it didn't fool Harry. She nodded and Dean grinned at her.

Harry took a deep breath past the pain in his heart and the tightening on his lungs and turned to shake Dean's hand. "Congratulations, mate." His eyes swung back to Ginny's. "You're going to need it."

Ginny inhaled sharply, but kept the smile on her face. Her eyes were unreadable and normally Harry would have taken a moment to try and figure that out, but his heart had just cracked into three separate pieces, and he needed to get out of there before he was sick all over Dean.

Dean clapped him on the back as Harry moved off, and Ginny stood rock still, even after Harry pushed past her and purposely shoved her shoulder with his own. He didn't see her close her eyes and take a shaky breath before turning back to Dean.

Harry didn't know why Ginny had done what she did. He just knew that he had to get somewhere alone quickly. He wasn't sure he even wanted to know why she'd done it; why she'd made love to him last night, and then made up with her boyfriend this morning. He slammed through the kitchen door and ran up the stairs. He barely made it to Ron's attic room before a wrenching sob escaped him, and he slumped against the closed door. Images of Ginny moving beneath him last night ran through his head; they flashed intermittently with the image of her holding hands with Dean this morning. His hands fisted on the wood on either side of his head.

Harry realised with a sinking clarity that Ginny had never said she would break up with Dean last night. They'd sort of glossed over that part, and he'd assumed he'd convinced her. Maybe she'd been planning this all along.

Over the years, Ginny and Harry had each done their share of hurting each other. They'd fought and forgiven each other hundreds of times. No matter how angry they got at each other, they always came back together. They'd been a unit, a team, virtually inseparable, and Harry had thought nothing could tear them apart.

He was wrong.

Ginny sighed and rested her head against the back of the train seat. She was alone in the compartment and was enjoying the silence. It was September 1st and she was finally going back to Hogwarts. The rest of the summer had been miserable. She and Harry had barely spoken two words to each other, even when she'd congratulated him on being named Head Boy. He'd treated her with disdain, and she'd taken every bit he'd dished out. She knew she deserved it. She'd spent as much time as she could with Luna and Dean.

A week after she'd left Harry at the pond, Ron and Hermione had cornered her and demanded to know what was going with the two of them. She'd assumed they hadn't been able to get any answers out of Harry, and she successfully avoided answering their questions directly. She just said they'd had a fight. She'd told them they would eventually work it out, but she'd been lying. She didn't think he would ever forgive her for what she had done to him. And honestly, she didn't blame him.

The only good part of the whole mess was that Tom had stopped bugging her about Harry. He'd been silent for over three weeks now, and Ginny took it as a personal triumph. Apparently Tom could care less about Dean. Perhaps he knew the boy wasn't really a threat.

_Dean_. She sighed again. She was using him and she knew it. She didn't love him, didn't even feel much attraction for him anymore. She'd only accepted his apology because it was the only way to keep Harry away. She knew Harry would never pursue her if she were another guy's girl. He was too damn noble for that. Earlier, when Dean had asked if she cared if he went to visit with Seamus for a bit instead of sitting with her, she'd sent him off gratefully.

She'd been on the verge of telling Harry several times why she'd left him at the pond. She wanted to explain that she was just trying to keep him safe, that if they were together Tom would hunt him down. Every time he turned those accusatory eyes on her, she'd nearly broken down. But then her brother Bill would come home and relate some horror story of Voldemort's latest activity and her resolve would harden.

The door to her compartment opened, and her breath caught when Parvati entered, dragging a reluctant Harry behind her. "Hi, Ginny!" she said brightly.

Ginny managed a falsely cheerful hello and returned Parvati's hug. She had nothing against Parvati — she was a bright, intelligent witch, and they'd been decent friends for a few years. But it hurt her heart that Parvati had the right to touch Harry. That Voldemort wouldn't threaten to kill Harry just because they were dating — even if it was casual.

Parvati turned to Harry as if expecting him to greet Ginny, but he ignored her and sat down in a stony silence. The dark-haired girl frowned at him and smiled apologetically at Ginny.

Ginny smiled back, but her heart wasn't in it. She felt incredibly guilty. Parvati would be really hurt if she knew that Harry and Ginny had slept together. Hermione and Ron had gone on a double date with them last week and Hermione had told Ginny that Harry was very standoffish as far as intimacy with Parvati went; it appeared to confuse the poor girl, but she had done little to push the issue. Ginny had lost a little respect for Parvati when she heard that. If it had been _her_, Ginny would have insisted on knowing why.

Her hands fisted in her school robes. But it wasn't her. She'd had her chance and made her choice.

If Parvati sensed the tension in the compartment, she didn't let it show. She chattered happily and seemed content with Harry and Ginny's one-word answers. Harry sat with his arms folded across his chest, glowering out the window. Ginny pretended to be interested in hearing about Parvati's summer, but she found she could barely look the girl in the eyes. She hadn't anticipated feeling so guilty.

Finally Parvati stood up and announced she had to visit the loo. Harry stood up, intending to follow her out of the compartment, but Parvati shooed him back down, insisting she'd be right back and made him promise to wait for her. He had no choice but to agree.

The tension rose considerably after Parvati had left, and Ginny had nearly reached her own breaking point when Harry finally exhaled sharply, as if he'd just reached a decision, and said: "Why?"

He spat the word out, as if he couldn't believe he was even deigning himself to ask her the question. She looked up, startled. "What?"

"Why, Ginny?" he said in a hard voice. "Why did you do it?"

She swallowed and looked down her lap. She'd tried to plan for this moment — she'd always known she would eventually have to explain her actions — but she'd never decided between telling the truth or making up some story that would make him stay away forever.

"Look at me," he hissed to her in parseltongue. "Why?" It was more of a demand than a question.

Ginny knew she'd made a mistake as soon as she met his eyes. She couldn't lie to him. Not with everything they had been through together.

"I didn't want to do it," she said softly. "But that morning, I woke up and Tom showed me what would happen if I stayed." His nostrils flared, and she closed her eyes, trying to shut out the sudden anger that had sprung to his eyes.

"He said he would kill you," she said, choking back a sob. "I'm trying to protect you."

"So you believe him?! He's been threatening to kill me for years! You're going to deny what's between us because of _him_?"

"There can be anything between us," she whispered. "He won't ever let me go, and I can't, I _won't,_ allow him to use me against you."

His jaw clenched and the muscles in his face worked furiously. Ginny sensed he was working hard at keeping his temper in check. His hands clenched and unclenched and he stood up to tower over her menacingly.

"You are either more of a coward than I thought or you didn't mean a bloody word you said that night," he said in a hard voice.

Ginny opened her mouth to deny it — to say that she'd meant every word, but he was already moving towards the door. He threw it open and slammed it behind him. She heard Parvati's questioning voice in the hallway, and she heard the low tone of his answers.

She then heard Dean's cheerful voice greeting the couple in the hallway. She rested her head back against the seat and resigned herself to pretending she wasn't dying inside. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this up.

Harry pressed closer to Parvati, trying to pretend his traitorous brain wasn't picturing Ginny instead. He kissed her harder, hoping to push Ginny's face out of his head. Parvati took his sudden intensity as increased interest and made a soft noise of encouragement.

He had no idea why he was even bothering. Parvati was a nice girl and she deserved someone who appreciated her. Harry knew the only reason he was still dating her was because Ginny had broken his heart, and he'd needed the ego boost. Truthfully, he found Parvati a bit boring.

He broke the kiss and pushed her gently away from. She gazed up at him through slitted eyes, her lips swollen from his kisses. She had a small smile of satisfaction on her face and it made him feel sick. He really needed to end things with her before she got too attached to him.

"I think that's enough for now," he said. He tried to smile at her and even though it wasn't much of a smile, he didn't think she really noticed.

Parvati's eyes glittered, and she leaned forward, probably in some misguided attempt to change his mind. They were sitting on a couch in the common room, and he leaned further back into the cushions to escape her questing mouth when the portrait door slammed open and a furious Ginny Weasley stalked towards them.

"Parvati, I'd like to speak with Harry alone if you don't mind," Ginny said through gritted teeth.

Parvati looked uncertainly at Harry who just shrugged and then looked back at Ginny. She'd seen Ginny Weasley angry before and knew better than to stand between her and her prey. She smiled quickly and stood up.

"Of course, Ginny. I've seen that look before." She laughed lightly. "Good luck, Harry."

Harry's eyes were fastened on Ginny's, and he didn't respond or even notice when Parvati floated away. He sat back against the cushions and regarding Ginny mockingly. "Can I help you?"

"Do you know where I've just come from?" she hissed at him.

Harry wasn't sure why he felt like pushing her buttons today. Maybe he just felt like hurting her as much as she'd hurt him. "That shady bar in Hogsmeade where scarlet women pick up blokes?"

Ginny's cheeks flushed red with anger at his crass joke, but she managed to keep her temper. "No, you bloody bastard. Dumbledore's office. Where he informed me that you had been to see him yesterday asking to have me removed as co-director of the DA."

"Oh," Harry's face was disappointed. "He's not going to remove you then? Pity."

"Would you care to explain to me why you went behind my back and tried to get me kicked out?"

Ginny was so angry she was shaking. Harry knew how important the DA was to her. It was the one thing they'd built together. The one they'd done right. And he'd told the Headmaster he didn't think they could work together anymore. He'd tried to take away the last joy in her life. If Ginny couldn't spend hours training and duelling every week, she would have nothing left. No way to push Tom into the back of her mind where she couldn't feel his snake twisting and scheming inside of her. Harry _knew_ that.

"I don't think I can work with you anymore," Harry said nonchalantly. "You see, I try to distance myself from complete bitches."

Ginny inhaled sharply while several eavesdroppers gasped. It was four weeks into the semester and most of the tower had figured out by now that Harry and Ginny were barely speaking to each other, but no one knew why. Last year's golden couple was this year's hottest gossip. Raging arguments in the common room between Harry and Ginny were nothing new, but they had always made up before.

"I can't believe you would try to take that away from me," Ginny said, switching to parseltongue. "You know how important it is to me."

"I don't know anything about you anymore!" Harry shouted back at her in the snake tongue. "I thought I knew you but then _lied _to me and led me on, and now you're a completely different person."

"I am exactly who I was before! I haven't changed! You're the one who's gone all vicious!"

"Because of you!" He screamed at her in English. "I'm this way because of you!" He stood up and jabbed a finger at her. "YOU did this to me. YOU destroyed us so completely until there was nothing left!"

"I told you why I did that," she whispered. Her face had paled, and her hands were shaking. "You _know_ why-"

Harry almost laughed. He shook his head and switched back to parseltongue. "It's not good enough, Ginny. Either you love me or you don't. And if you're not with me, then you don't love me. You love Tom more."

She slapped him across the face for that. "That is NOT true, you bloody arse."

Harry massaged his cheek where the red handprint from her slap was already showing. "Isn't it? You've let him win. Let him beat you down until you did what HE wanted you to do."

"I did it to protect you!"

"Funny that," he smiled sardonically at her. "You keep saying that but I don't believe you for a single second. I certainly don't feel protected. I _feel_ like you ripped out my heart and stomped on it. I _feel _like you're a conniving little bitch who has no regard for others and I _feel_ like a bloody fool for having ever been with you." The word "bitch" didn't really translate in parseltongue, but he said enough to convey his meaning.

Harry was trying to be as cruel as possible. By the look on Ginny's face, it was working.

"I just want us to be friends again," she said in parseltongue. "I've apologised and apologised. What can I do to make you forgive me?"

Harry shoved his hands into his trousers and turned towards the stairs. "There's nothing you can do, Ginny," he said over his shoulder. "Because I'm never going to forgive you."

His eyes were hard as he turned away from her and walked slowly up the stairs. He didn't want to look back and watch as Ginny pulled herself together enough to pretend that what he'd just said hadn't broken her heart. He might have stayed if she'd turned into a crying, blubbering mess and begged him to forgive her. But that wasn't Ginny, and he wouldn't have known what to do with her if it was. He also didn't want to see the looks Ron and Hermione would be giving him. They'd been after him for weeks, since before term began, to explain what had happened. It didn't matter how much he hated Ginny for what she'd done, he couldn't rat on her like that.

"You'll find your way back to each other, Harry," Hermione had reassured him. "You always do."

Harry hadn't believed her.

He made it to the room and collapsed on his bed after drawing shut the curtains around his bed. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and took a few shuddering breaths. It was scary to think that he would hate Ginny for the rest of his life but what was even scarier was how good he was getting at being mean to her. How good they were getting at hurting each other. Most days they didn't speak, but when they did, he made snide comments that forced her to retaliate. He supposed she would have ignored someone else, but Harry knew which buttons to push to get a reaction out of Ginny Weasley. And there was a sick part of him that wanted any reaction from her — even if it was bristling anger. If he could still make her mad then maybe some part of her still cared.

He'd gone to Dumbledore not because he didn't think they could work together. On the contrary, running the DA was the only thing they _could_ still manage. They could barely stand to stay in the same common room together, but they could still pull it together to teach the defence club. But he knew it would hurt her if she couldn't help with the DA. Dumbledore had immediately seen through his request and had told Harry, rather sharply, to keep his personal business out of school clubs.

He wanted to hurt Ginny because he was still so angry about what she had done that sometimes the feeling threatened to consume him. He had dreams about that night with her but they quickly turned into nightmares when he woke up the next morning and remembered what she'd done — how she had left him and gone back to Dean. He still didn't understand how she could just turn their back on what they'd shared; what he knew still existed between them, buried deep beneath the hurt and the anger and the loathing.

The truth was, he would probably always be in love with her. It was just too damn bad that he hated her so much.


	21. Chapter 21 Unfinished Business

A/N: Warning: there is some violence in this scene. The ideas for part of this chapter were taken from Battlestar Galactica's Season 3.

Also, this chapter is dedicated to Rutzy/NYC10016 who said, "Hey, write something where Harry and Ginny have a big fight and then fall in love..." I'm not sure this is what she meant, but I gave it a shot for such a loyal reader and friend!

Chapter 21

_Six months later:_

Ginny sighed with satisfaction as she took in the scene below her. A raised section was marked off with ropes in the middle of the recently expanded DA training room. Students were crowed around the platform cheering on two duellists who were facing each other in the ring, their wands out. A bell sounded and the Ravenclaw acted first. Ginny scoffed. His opponent was a typical Slytherin who was weighing all the odds before acting. The fight was on, and the light from yellow spells flashed in the room.

The competition had been Dumbledore's idea. He'd enthusiastically explained it to Harry and Ginny before Christmas, and they'd announced the Duelling Competition at the first DA meeting after the New Year. Students submitted their names and duelling pairs were matched up randomly. The tricky part was that along with their opponents being selected randomly, each pair could only use the same spell to duel against each other. Dumbledore himself had selected a variety of minor spells and hexes and tossed them into a bright purple hat that Ginny suspected he actually wore sometimes. After each pair was announced, the headmaster would reach into the hat and draw out which spell they would use. The fight was over when someone either lost their wand or was down for five-counts. It was an excellent way for students to learn the different ways to use a minor spell effectively.

Ginny was currently standing on a balcony Dumbledore had constructed for the professors to watch the duelling. She hadn't put her name in yet, and she wasn't sure she would.

"Are you going to duel, Ginny?"

Ginny turned at the voice of her headmaster. Professor Dumbledore was standing next to her, his twinkling eyes watching her over his glasses.

"I don't know, Professor. I thought about submitting my name a little later."

"I see Harry has been selected to duel Mr. Malfoy."

Ginny grimaced. She didn't think anyone could have tampered with the way the pairs were selected, but it was quite a coincidence that Harry had been matched up with his school rival.

"I think Harry will beat him," she said firmly. "What do you think, Professor?"

"I think it quite interesting that, despite the obvious animosity between you and Harry these past months, you still choose to back him in a fight."

She flushed. "Well, Harry is an excellent fighter," she stammered. "It's just logical that he would beat him."

Dumbledore tilted his head and looked her. "May I speak frankly, Ginny?"

She nodded. "Of course, Professor." Dumbledore's eyes were kind, but there was a steely edge to his voice that she could not ignore.

"I would never presume to interfere in the private relationships of my students," the headmaster said. "But this disagreement between yourself and Harry is of great concern to me."

Ginny's eyes flashed. "I don't see how-"

"Ginny, Ginny," Dumbledore said in a placating tone. "Do not think that I am placing blame anywhere." He laid a hand on her shoulder. "I will be completely honest with you — it's what you are always asking of me, correct?"

She nodded silently.

"You and Harry need each other," he said frankly. "Whatever has happened between you, you must find a way to resolve it. Voldemort wins every day the two of you withhold your friendship. I know you have fought before but this one seems to be -" his eyes searched her face, "- particularly devastating. And if it ruins your friendship forever, then Tom Riddle will have his victory. He wishes to destroy you both but at this rate you will destroy yourselves — he only has to wait you out."

His words were harsh, but his tone, his manner, and the way he squeezed her shoulder in an attempt to soften the blow brought tears to her eyes. Ginny was so tired of fighting with Harry. She was tired of the cruel words and the spiteful way they'd been treating each other. She was tired of the guilt that ate at her every night and of the hole in her heart where he used to live. He was angry with her because she had done something unforgivable, and she was angry with him because he couldn't forgive her. She just wanted her best friend back.

"I did something really horrible, Professor," she confessed softly. She blinked furiously to stop the tears that threatened. "And I don't know if he'll ever forgive me for it. He's just so angry with me."

Dumbledore's grip on her shoulder tightened. "Then you must find a way for him to release his anger. To let go of it."

"I've tried-" she began, but the Headmaster cut her off by shaking his head.

"Not hard enough," he insisted. "I've seen the way you've been treating each other. He's itching for a fight. He wants to hurt you, the way you've apparently hurt him."

"He _has_ been hurting me! Every day!"

"Well it's evidently not been enough," he said dryly. "Whatever you did to him has affected him greatly. I've spoken to your professors, and both of your performances have been slipping."

Ginny took a deep breath. "So what should I do?"

"Ah." Dumbledore straightened up and looked back down at the duelling circle below them. "I think it will be easier than you think. You've yet to submit your name for duelling I believe?"

Ginny followed his eyes down to the duellists on the floor. "Yes, as I said, but what -"

"Mr. Potter must duel Mr. Malfoy once this round is over," he said. "But there is nothing in the rules that says the same person can't duel twice in the same day." He glanced back at her. "The box where you submit your name, it will be empty after the next round. If there are only two names submitted, the box will automatically match them up."

Ginny stared at her professor. She wasn't stupid but it was hard to understand what he was trying to orchestrate. Dumbledore was suggesting she and Harry duel each other. But — _oh…_wait a minute…that wasn't half-bad. Harry was so angry with her he probably wouldn't hold back his aggression.

Ginny straightened up from the balcony railing. It might not work, but she had to try. Now she just had to convince Harry to beat her up.

Harry bounced lightly up and down on his toes waiting for his duel with Malfoy to begin. Ron considered it poetic justice the two were paired to duel each other, as he was confident Harry would "kick the ferret's arse." Hermione had smiled encouragingly, but Harry had seen the worry in her eyes.

He was pretty confident he could take Malfoy, but the Slytherin was grinning with a certain amount of glee on the other side of the duelling ring so there was no telling what he had planned. They'd drawn the stunning curse, and Harry was grateful it wasn't something more lethal. Although a well-aimed stunning curse could hurt pretty badly.

The bell to begin the match sounded ,but Harry remained where he was, waiting to see if Malfoy would act first. They eyed each other across the ring. Malfoy had a cocky smile on his face, and Harry was tempted to smile right back.

Malfoy was not a member of the DA so he had no idea the level of duelling Harry had reached. Fortunately the competition was open to everyone fifth year and above so Malfoy was about to learn a really important lesson.

Harry was tired of fighting the arrogant grin itching to spread over his face so he let the smile come. He'd been itching for a fight for a long time, and he couldn't think of a better way to get rid of his bad mood other than beating the shite out of Draco Malfoy.

Fortunately or unfortunately — Harry couldn't decide which — they both chose to act at the same time. He swung out of the way of the stunner Malfoy sent his way and the fight was on.

Five minutes later they were still fighting. Harry had bopped and weaved all over the ring avoiding the onslaught of Malfoy's attacks. He would never admit it out loud, but the Slytherin was better than he'd anticipated. Harry had withheld from firing as often as Malfoy did — his strategy was to wear Malfoy out physically and then take him down.

Another few minutes later and Harry and Malfoy were both still at it. Anticipation was high in the room — both sides cheering their champions. Harry didn't notice when Ginny joined the crowd at the ringside, but when Malfoy shot a stunner at him, forcing Harry to drop to the mat to avoid it, his eyes met hers. Time seemed to slow. She was gripping the ropes that surrounded the ring, a fierce look on her face.

"Get up!" She shouted at him over the din. "GET UP! Stop dicking around and GET him, Harry!"

Something familiar in her eyes registered with him and he suddenly felt stronger than he had in weeks. Despite everything, she still believed in him. He could see it written on her face. For one brief moment, it felt like nothing between them had changed — they hadn't slept together, she hadn't broken his heart, and they hadn't spent the past six months wounding each other over and over again.

Power surged into him and Harry quickly got to his feet. Malfoy was strutting like a peacock on the other side of the ring, and he was too late to notice Harry getting to his feet.

Harry yelled the curse and put all the power he'd been storing for the entire match behind it. The red light streaked towards Malfoy and hit him dead centre in the chest. The blond boy fell back; his mouth and eyes open in shock.

The room erupted. Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs exploded in triumph. Harry turned towards the crowd, panting, but grinning widely. He noticed Ron and Hermione cheering louder than anyone else. Ginny was standing off to the side a knowing smirk on her face. He allowed himself a brief moment of wishing. If things hadn't changed between them this past summer he'd probably be celebrating with her right now.

He hadn't even thought to look for Parvati, but he eventually noticed her anyway. She was holding court with some of the Gryffindor girls. Harry rolled his eyes before climbing down from the platform. He walked over to the submission box where the winner of each match was required to slide their wand into one of Dumbledore's mysterious devices that would register the win from the wand's point of view. Harry wasn't sure what Dumbledore would use the information for, but he'd said it was standard at any duelling competition.

"You certainly took your time with him," a wry voice commented behind him.

Harry stiffened, but he did not turn around. He was grateful to her for giving him the final push he'd needed to finish the match, but nothing else had changed between them. Plus, he was afraid that if she saw his face right now, she'd realise just _how much_ he'd needed her to push him.

"I was tiring him out," he responded. The wand-reading device gave final whir and he removed his wand. But he still didn't turn around.

Ginny moved to stand beside him. "You know, I haven't submitted my name for the competition yet," she said conversationally.

"Oh, really?" He tried not to show interest; truthfully he'd wondered why he hadn't seen her name up on the wall. It was the first day of the competition though — he figured she was waiting to duel the winners of today's matches.

"I've been waiting for just the right partner." She spoke in parseltongue. He raised his head in shock as the reason why she'd done so sunk past his thick skull.

Harry couldn't help himself then, and he turned around to face her. She just looked at him with one eyebrow raised.

"You can't be serious," he spluttered at her. "There's no way I'm duelling you."

She just raised another eyebrow. "Why? Afraid you'll lose?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "No, I'm afraid I'll kill you."

Ginny shrugged. "You hate me. I would think that would be a plus."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "We are not doing this."

"I've never known you to back down from a challenge, Potter. Or are you just too exhausted from fighting with the ferret?"

It was a low blow. Dammit, she knew just how to push his buttons. Even while he knew her game was to get him mad enough to agree to duel her, he couldn't stop himself from rising to her bait. It _would_ feel good to wipe that smug look off her face…

Ginny kept her eyes fastened on him while she slowly pulled out her wand and tapped the top of the submission box on the table next to them. A blue light flashed momentarily indicating that her name had just been entered into the competition.

Harry stared at the box. He knew it was empty. If he submitted his name now, they would be automatically matched up. Before he could stop to think about why Ginny was so anxious to duel him, he found himself picking up his wand and tapping the box.

Another blue light and a soft gong echoed as the names "G. Weasley vs. H. Potter" appeared on the magical scoreboard Professor McGonagall had hung in the room.

The room fell silent. Students alternated between staring at the board and craning their necks to look at Harry and Ginny who were glaring at each other by the submission table. Everyone knew about their fight of course, it'd been the talk of the school for months; so everyone knew this duel was about a lot more than a friendly competition.

Another soft gong and the name of hex they would be using against each other appeared next to their names on the scoreboard: the Punching Hex. Several people gasped and most of the Gryffindors groaned.

Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were about to beat each other into a bloody pulp.

The crowd was alive with energy and anticipation was practically sparking in the room. Harry and Ginny stood on either side of the duelling ring, their backs to each other as they each listened to last minute advice from their friends.

"You can't hold back, Harry," Ron was saying. "She'll be counting on you not wanting to hit a girl."

"He's not going to hold back," Hermione warned Ginny. "He's never held back before."

"Just get out there and end it quickly. I don't fancy watching you or my sister beating each other up."

"I can't fathom why you're doing this, but I hope you know what you're doing," Hermione told Ginny anxiously.

Ginny ignored her and did a few warm up stretches, rolling her shoulders and twisting her torso back and forth rapidly. They'd had thirty minutes to prepare for the match, and she'd used most of that time running back to Gryffindor House so she could change into a tank top and some stretchy cotton pants that would allow her to move easily.

Ginny was actually pretty terrified. Not of getting hurt, at least not physically. She could take anything Harry could dole out. She was pretty confident she could even best him. No, she was afraid of what she had done to him. Afraid that nothing between them would ever be right again, that this fight would solve nothing. Afraid that she had lost him forever.

They turned around to face each other at the same time. Harry had changed clothes too, and Ginny appreciated the stony look on his face. It looked like he would be taking this seriously; she was grateful for that. She chanced a look up at the galley where Dumbledore was watching. The Headmaster's eyes were hard and his mouth was tight with concentration. Apparently she wasn't the only one feeling the tension in the room.

The signal to begin sounded, but neither one of them moved. Harry focused on Ginny. Everything else disappeared. There was only she and he and this fight between them. He watched her for any sign of movement that would indicate she was going to make her move.

When it came, she moved so fast he barely saw her flick her wand. She caught him off guard, and his head snapped to the side as her punching hex caught him on the cheekbone. He cursed and fired back, but she spun away to her left and the hex was absorbed by the magical barrier the surrounded the ring and protected the spectators.

Harry gathered himself and tried to calm down. It wouldn't do to attack her in anger, he would make silly mistakes. His eyes tracked her around the duelling platform. They were circling each other like panthers. He counted to three and attacked. His wand moved like lightning as he fired punch after punch after punch. She avoided the first three but the fourth caught her in the mouth and Harry's eyes widened when he noticed that he'd drawn first blood.

A few minutes later he was ready to concede that he might have made a crucial mistake in his original attack. Even though he'd wounded her, Ginny had just grinned, wiped the blood from her lip with the tip of a finger and slitted her eyes like a cat's. She then went into a series of moves that had him dancing around the ring to avoid the hexes. More often than not her hexes hit their target, and Harry felt like he'd just been pounded by several fists. His jaw and abdomen ached.

"C'mon, Harry," Ginny sneered at him. She bounded away while he caught his breath. She held her arms out to both sides, bouncing on her tip toes, her wand clenched in her right fist. "Afraid to hit a girl?"

She moved her wand again and he felt a punch hit his shoulder. He stumbled back and hit the side of the ring as she moved closer, her wand pointed at him menacingly. "Stop holding back, Harry. You know you've wanted to hit me for months. Here's your chance."

She stopped advancing on him and titled her head. "Or are you just this weak? Maybe the fight with Malfoy wore you out more than you thought, hmm? Or maybe I'm just this _good_." She fired at him again, and his head snapped back when her punching hex hit the underside of his jaw.

Something snapped inside of him. Later, he would remember the moment and examine it, deciding that he _had_ been holding back until then; that he _hadn't _been able to bring himself to really hit a girl — even if it was Ginny. But her taunting and sneering and constant onslaught of hexes finally pushed him past being a gentleman.

He pushed himself up from the ropes with a snarl and whipped his wand through the air in a slashing motion. The punching hex hit in her the stomach and her body bowed for a brief moment while her muscles absorbed the impact. He didn't wait for her to recover however and fired off another hex, this one striking her across the cheekbone; and then another that hit her jaw; and another one that pummelled her shoulders; and then back down to her abdomen. He soon had her backed into a corner where he fired hexes so fast that she put up her hands up to block her face, and he rained magical fists down on her arms and her chest.

Every time his hexes struck home, he felt a jolt of something he could not name. It felt _good_ to hit her. He put six months worth of frustration, anger and hurt behind each spell and each time the spell hit, he felt a little bit of the emotions he'd been stock-piling release themselves.

He stopped his onslaught and took a few steps backwards. Ginny remained hunched over, gasping for breath as she tried to stand up straight. She took a few steps towards him, and he fired another hex that hit her across the face and knocked her to the mat.

The crowd gasped, but Ginny managed to push herself back up onto her hands and knees, her red ponytail falling over her head as she struggled to get to her feet. Her friends on the sidelines screamed at her to get up while Harry yelled at her from the centre of the ring.

"C'mon! Get up! You talked me into this and we're going to finish it!"

Ginny lifted her head and saw Colin shouting encouragements at her. He was standing next to Hermione who was watching her with pleading eyes. She wondered if Hermione wanted her to stay down so the fight would be over or if her friend wanted her to get back up and finish. She didn't care. Ginny Weasley had never backed down from a fight, and she wasn't about to start.

She shifted her weight onto her right hand and lifted her wand with her left to fire a low hex towards Harry. The powerful punching hex hit him in the knee, and he fell backward with a loud thump onto the mat. She could see that she'd knocked the wind out of him, and she used the lull to pull herself up onto two feet.

Parvati was standing in the centre of the crowd, wringing her hands while she watched Harry and Ginny duel. She wasn't sure what this was about — she and Harry had a pretty casual relationship, and he barely spoke to her about important things. She had no idea why he and Ginny had been fighting since last summer. But she wasn't stupid — she knew that whatever was going on inside the duelling circle was significant. And even though they were beating each other up, for a brief moment, Parvati was envious of Ginny Weasley. She doubted Harry would ever care enough about her to treat her as his equal.

"What in the bloody hell is going on?" She heard a gasp next to her and turned to see that Dean had finally arrived. He'd missed most of the tournament and hadn't known that his girlfriend had challenged Harry Potter to a duel.

"What does it look like?" she shouted back to him over the wildly cheering crowd.

"It looks like they're trying to kill each other!" he yelled back.

Indeed it did. Both duellists had finally made it to their feet and were shooting spells at each other that were hitting their mark more often than not. They seemed to be tiring and could barely stagger around the ring to avoid their opponent's punching. Their faces and mouths were bloodied, and Parvati could see bloody places on their exposed skin where magical punches had been hard enough to cut.

"That's one perspective!" she said to Dean. Their eyes met and a look of shared understanding passed between them. Parvati wondered if was as obvious to the rest of the school that Harry and Ginny had never really belonged to either one of them. They belonged only to each other and always had.

Harry was tiring, and his only consolation was that he could see Ginny was tiring too. They were only half-heartedly avoiding each other's hexes at this point; they seemed to content to beat each other bloody instead.

He fired a hex that hit her in the shoulder, the force of it spinning her around. She lurched back to face him and shot a punch at his ribs that made him wheeze. Harry's hand was sweaty and possibly covered in blood, but he managed to maintain his grip on his wand. The match wasn't over until someone lost their wand or was knocked out for five-counts. And once they'd been matched up, they'd entered into a magical contract. They had to duel until there was a clear winner.

Harry could no longer hear the crowd shouting and cheering for them. He didn't notice Ron and Hermione standing with white faces on the sidelines or that the rest of their friends had stopped cheering long ago. He only saw Ginny. She was a mess — they both were. He could taste the blood in his mouth and every muscle in his body felt like it had been pummelled into exhaustion. One of his eyes was nearly swollen shut and his lips were so puffy he wasn't sure he would ever talk again.

Ginny's white tank top was streaked with red where she'd used the fabric to wipe at the blood and sweat on her face. He could see that she was favouring her right side. He'd probably bruised her ribs at some point — maybe even broken them. He should have been devastated that they'd been able to hurt each other this much, but a part of him knew that this had been a long time coming. He felt surprisingly free. For the first time since they'd slept together he wasn't so angry anymore. And once the anger was gone, the only thing left was how much he missed his best friend…and how much he still loved her.

Their eyes met. There were tears on her face, but it was nearly impossible to see them past her two swollen eyes and her bloody nose. He hadn't looked her fully in the eyes in a long time, and when he saw the emotion swimming in those chocolate brown orbs, he felt something break inside.

Ginny knew she had started this fight because she'd hoped they could physically beat the hate and anger out of each other. What she did not realize until it was too late, was that with each blow from Harry's wand, the anger, pain, fear, self-loathing were being chipped away and all the barriers being torn down until she was left with the raw truth. A truth she'd buried deep inside her heart for a long time: She's loved Harry Potter all along. Her feelings for him…her love…was bigger than both of them. She was tired of escaping and ignoring and denying it; and once those things were gone, she was left with only acceptance.

Another truth also revealed itself in this moment: Harry Potter _loved_ her. It was written on every inch of his face…and probably always had been. She'd just been too stupid to believe in it. She'd let Tom tell her it wasn't worth fighting for.

Their shared, twisted past had transformed them and strengthened the bond between them in a profound way. If they could still feel this much anger, the love in their hearts must be huge. It was something she knew all too well because in her heart they co-existed. The past had been a test of their love and it would endure anything she could put in its path – even Voldemort. Maybe it was time she gave up resisting it.

Ginny swayed towards him, stumbling to catch herself as she fired another wild hex that flew over his head. He staggered to reach her and caught her in his arms. Her wand clattered to the mat and a loud gong sounded in the area as the magical scoreboard declared Harry Potter as the winner.

Ginny wrapped her arms around him and let her head prop itself on his shoulder. Harry's legs were spread wide to support their weight, but he was exhausted and so he couldn't help but lean back into her. They held each other up, their combined weight pushing against each other to keep the other standing.

"I missed you," she breathed.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his head buried in her neck. He felt rather than saw a drop of his blood splash to her shoulder. "I missed-" He had to stop and swallow the lump in his throat.

"I missed you too."


	22. Chapter 22 Fixing It

Chapter 22 

Professor Dumbledore stood stoically in the hospital wing as Madame Pomfrey fussed over her two newest patients.

"…students beating each other up," the nurse muttered under her breath. She stood up to rinse out the wet cloth she was using to mop the blood from a cut on Ginny's forehead. "And while teachers sat by and watched!"

"Wouldn't have happened in my day," she continued darkly. She ran her wand over the cut and sutures magically appeared, binding the skin back together. "In my day, we respected our fellow students!" She said this last bit while glaring down at Ginny, her wand in one hand, while she gently probed Ginny's ribcage with her fingers. When Ginny yelped, she nodded in satisfaction.

"You've got three bruised ribs, young lady," Pomfrey said. "I'll get you some muscle strengthening potion, but you'll be sore for a few days." She bustled off to the back of the infirmary leaving Harry and Ginny alone with the headmaster.

Dumbledore stepped forward, his purple cloak swishing around him. He stood between their beds at the foot of them and fixed his twinkling eyes on both of them in turn.

"I trust you are both satisfied with the results of the duel?" he asked genially.

Harry nodded and Ginny gave a soft, "Yes, Professor."

"Good," he said, smoothing his beard. "It was quite a lot of work, you know, getting two people as stubborn as yourselves to participate in such an elaborate scheme."

He ignored their shocked faces and continued, "I usually feel that less is more in such a plot, but in this case," he smiled down at them, "a certain ingenuity was in order."

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but found she had nothing to say. Was the whole tournament, the whole thing, for them? Just to get them to duel each other? How could he have known it would work? And what if they hadn't agreed to duel each other? What then?

"Complicated plans require a lot of timing — most of which one has no control over, but in this case, it was easy to guess how you would both behave," Dumbledore said, guessing Ginny's thoughts.

He stepped back and straightened his hat. "Now, I expect that you'd like to be alone. I'll leave, but I would like to see both of you some time tomorrow in my office. We've things to discuss." He nodded at Ginny and winked at Harry before he was gone in a swirl of robes.

Harry watched the hospital doors bang closed behind Dumbledore before turning to Ginny with his eyebrows raised. "Why do I feel like a pawn in Ron's chess set?"

Ginny snorted and said, "I think we're both pawns actually. Wonder why he cares so much about how we get along."

Harry shrugged. "I reckon we were making everyone pretty miserable."

"It's all my fault," Ginny mumbled.

"What?"

Ginny took a deep breath and said louder, "I reckon you were right about me."

Harry looked at her curiously from his bed. "Right about what?"

Ginny was silent for a moment and Harry watched as her hands fisted in the bed clothes. "What you said about me on the train in September - about me being a coward," she said finally.

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Over the years he had seen Ginny cry, yell, rage, throw things, laugh, curse, and make stupid decisions, but he had never, ever heard her admit to being a coward. Ginny was one of the bravest people he knew. He'd heard her say she was afraid once or twice, but he'd always thought bravery was more about admitting you had fears and then facing them anyway. Ginny had always been excellent at that.

"I can't believe you just said that," he said, blinking in astonishment.

"It's true," she insisted. Her head turned on her pillow to face him. Madame Pomfrey appeared and gave her the muscle-strengthening potion; she had to remain very still while it worked on the ribs he'd bruised.

"That's why I ran, Harry," she said after Madame Pomfrey left. "That's why I left that morning and told Dean I would take him back. Tom was just an excuse." She propped herself up on her left elbow, but the movement was apparently too much. She winced and flopped back down on the bed.

"But I wasn't afraid of you or what we had done," she said miserably to the ceiling. "I was afraid because I didn't want to lose you. I had finally admitted what I'd been denying to myself, and I just knew that meant something was going to happen to destroy it. Whether it's Tom coming for you or me screwing it up, I was afraid something would happen to you, and I didn't want to be so close that it would hurt when you were gone."

Her confession shook him. Harry had been so certain that she hadn't really meant what she'd said that night — about loving him. It had been easier for him to think she was a liar than afraid of what they meant to each other. It was harder for him to accept that she'd left that morning because of her fears. That path had led towards hope that she could get over her fears, and he couldn't let himself hope that what happened between them wasn't over.

"So…um…what is that you've been denying to yourself?" he managed to ask.

She turned to look at him, irritation hiding the vulnerability in her eyes. "That I'm head over arse in love with you. You big prat."

They weren't the most romantic or even the most poetic, but they were the sweetest words Harry had ever heard. She'd admitted it…again. And they'd already established there were no takebacks for such a thing. Relief washed over him.

"There's no takebacks for that," he warned. Harry would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid now. Afraid to trust her. Afraid that she WAS going to take this conversation back.

Her face softened. "No takebacks," she repeated. "I know. And it scares the shite out of me, but I realised something while we were beating the bloody hell out of each other. Tom wasn't there that night; he only showed up when I woke up the next morning and started, you know…panicking."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you saying?"

"I think Tom can't stand it when we're…you know…thinking about…love…or whatever." Ginny felt awkward. "It was only when I began to question myself that he swooped in and... you know."

She wasn't sure how to say what she was thinking without sounding like a cliché. She chanced a look at Harry and saw recognition dawn on his face. She should have known he'd get it without her having to explain further.

He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Ginny, we need to talk about this. You can't just expect me to forget about everything that happened. What you did-" he stopped and swallowed heavily, "-it messed me up. It messed _us_ up and _we_ are something that I've always been able to count on. That I need to be able to count on."

"I know," she said quietly. "And I know you can't forget. But I'm hoping that with time maybe you'll forgive me?" She looked at him anxiously, her heart in her eyes.

Harry wanted to be strong, he wanted to be able to go slowly and rebuild the trust between them. But the truth was he'd already forgiven her. Maybe that was really stupid of him and maybe she was going to turn right around and break his heart again but all he knew was his life had been shite the past six months without her.

"I have," he said shortly. "I have forgiven you."

"You…you have?"

"Yes. I'm just not sure if I can trust you. And I won't pretend that I understand why you did what you did; but I believe that you're sorry about it."

She nodded fiercely. "I AM. So sorry. Harry, I've been miserable without you. You were so right — I was letting Tom mess with my head. I should have known better. Sometimes I-" she looked down at her hands twisting in her lap, "-I can't believe I did that to you. That I was so cruel. I was such a _coward_."

"Hey," Harry said softly. She looked up and met his eyes.

"I get being scared, okay?" he said softly. "I get that what's between us scares you. It scares me too."

"It does? But you seemed so sure…that night by the pond."

He smiled ruefully at her. "I was terrified. Terrified that I was going to ruin our friendship. Terrified that you didn't feel the same. I'm not sure I would have had the nerve if Fred and George hadn't snuck me that Firewhisky."

She grinned. "Don't ever tell them that. We'd never hear the end of it."

He grinned back. "No problem."

They were smiling at each other, and for a moment it felt like things were as they used to be, but then Ginny shifted and the pain around her ribs reminded her that she'd hurt him badly enough that she'd had to force him to beat her up just to get them talking again.

She let out a deep breath. "So. Where do we go from here?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by an enraged Hermione who'd apparently just gotten past Madame Pomfrey.

"Harry Potter! Ginny Weasley! What on earth did you guys think you were doing! You could have killed one another!"

Harry and Ginny turned their heads to see a simmering Hermione marching towards them, her bushy hair practically sparking with indignation. Ron was walking less intensely behind her, his face unreadable.

She stopped at the foot of their beds, her hands on her hips and glared at them furiously. "I have never seen such a display of childish behaviour in my life! Do you have any idea how awful it was to watch you guys try and KILL each other? I can't _believe_ Dumbledore let that continue!"

"He couldn't stop it, Hermione," Ginny said, interrupting her tirade. "It's a magical contract, you know that. We had to fight it out."

"Oh! Of course, by all means, let's beat the bloody hell out of each other then!" their friend threw up her hands in frustration. "Did it never occur to either one of you to just concede? Or forfeit?!"

Harry looked at her blankly. "No. Why would we want to do that?"

"Because you're supposed to be friends!" she shrieked at them. "You're not supposed to beat each other up!"

"Hermione," Ginny said patiently. "It's fine. We're fine. It…er…helped actually."

"I suppose it didn't occur to you either that maybe you could have settled your argument by _talking_ about it? As opposed to settling it with a duel?"

"We tried that," Harry said shortly. "It didn't work very well."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but shut it quickly. Harry was dismayed to see tears in her eyes. Shite, she wasn't going to cry, was she?

"Hermione?" Ginny said uncertainly. "Are you okay?"

Their friend nodded but pressed a hand to her mouth. "I'm fine," she squeaked after a moment. "It's just that," she cleared her throat and lowered her hand. "It's just that it was _awful _— watching you guys do that to each other. I felt so helpless."

"Hermione, what happened had nothing to do with you," Ginny told her, shaking her head. "Harry and I had to work things out on our own."

"I know, I know," Hermione nodded. She wiped away a stray tear. "I just…just love you guys so much and -" She broke off and turned around to bury her face in Ron's chest.

Ron rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend's trembling torso. Unlike Hermione, he understood a little more about what had happened in the ring. It hadn't been easy to watch Harry beat the living shite out of his little sister; nor had it been easy to watch his sister beat the shite out of his best friend — but he sensed that it was helping them to work out whatever the animosity was between them. Ron had a pretty good idea as to what had happened between Harry and Ginny but both had been closemouthed about the subject and he hadn't wanted to press the issue.

"Hermione, why don't you go back to the dorm?" Ron suggested in a low voice. "I'll be along in a minute."

Hermione lifted her head and nodded at him, still sniffling. She smiled shakily at Harry and Ginny and left the hospital wing. Ron watched her go and when the hospital doors closed behind her, he turned back around to face his sister and his friend. His expression was suddenly hard, and both Ginny and Harry gulped.

"Hermione might be a little emotional, but she has a point," he told them. His face was thunderous. "I can't believe you both let it get this far. You both need to grow up and stop being such stubborn gits. If I ever – EVER - see the two of you go at it like that again, I will -"

"Ron, you have no idea what happened," Harry interrupted. "If you did know, you -"

"I've my own ideas about what happened between you," Ron said firmly. "And I'm not sure I even care to know anymore. I just know that if ever see my sister and my best friend hurting one another like this again, you are both going to have bigger problems then each other."

He glared at them, meeting both pairs of eyes with a fierceness that surprised Ginny.

"We're sorry Ron," she said, not really sure why she was apologizing. "I know all this must have been hard on you and Hermione."

"Yes, it has," he nodded. "The past six months have been difficult for everyone, for all your friends. You guys don't understand how much people look up to you. How important you are -" he broke off, shaking his head.

"There's a bloody war on," he said. "And you two are more important than I think we'd all like to admit. But none of that, not even being scared that You-Know-Who is going to kill your sister and your best friend, was as scary as watching you two go at each other like that. I can't watch something like that again."

Harry nodded silently. He didn't trust himself to speak.

"So fix it," said Ron harshly. "Fix _this_. Whatever happened, it's not worth throwing your friendship away. So get over it."

"We will," Ginny assured him. "We're working on it."

"Good," her brother nodded. "'Cause it's a sad day when _I'm_ the mature one."

Harry snorted and Ron grinned. "I'd better go make sure Hermione is all right. I'll see you guys later."

After Ron left, Harry turned to Ginny in amazement. "Can you believe him?"

"He's really growing up, isn't he?" she mused. She looked back at him. "You didn't tell him what I did."

Harry shook his head. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Why?" she asked, tilting her head at him. "You were so angry with me -"

"It was just…private, I guess."

"But you were the man scorned. I'd have thought you would have told everyone."

"I don't talk about my friends behind their backs, Fury. You know me better than that."

"Friends," she repeated blandly. "So we're um…friends again then?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was once again cut off by a shriek from the hospital doorway.

"Harry!"

It was Parvati. Harry rolled his eyes. Great, just what he needed. He'd been about to tell Ginny that he wanted to be more than friends — that he was ready to try; and that he'd barely touched Parvati in the last six months because he couldn't get the taste and smell of Ginny out of his head. The last thing he needed was his increasingly annoying girlfriend there.

Ginny's eyes widened when she saw that Dean was right behind Parvati. Bugger.

Dean's eyes were fixed on her as Parvati fussed over a suddenly grumpy Harry. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

She nodded quickly. "I'm fine." She realised she was going to have to break up with Dean. And sooner, rather than later. She hadn't treated him fairly. She'd used him and led him on — all in an attempt to ignore what she felt for Harry. It was time to stop running.

Ginny took a deep breath. "Listen, Dean -"

"Actually I need to say something first," he interrupted. He sat down in the chair beside her bed and scooted it closer. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped between them.

"I really like you," he said honestly. "I'm not going to pretend about that. But I can see that you don't feel the same. And I'd rather be with someone who likes me for me, not because I give her a reason to ignore feelings she may have for a certain roommate of mine."

Ginny smiled weakly. "I _do_ like you. You're kind and smart and funny and very, very sweet. But -"

"But, yeah," he smiled briefly at her. "Guess it wasn't meant to be, huh?"

"I'm sorry," she said earnestly. "I've treated you so awfully."

"Nah," he said, getting to his feet. "You were a pretty decent girlfriend actually. You never made promises you couldn't keep and when you weren't occupied with other things -" his eyes shifted to Harry's bed, "- it was fun."

Dean leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "I hope everything works out, yeah? Don't be stupid about things. I don't want to see you resolving your issues in a duelling circle anymore."

Ginny swallowed past the lump in her throat and smiled. "I'll try not to. But you know me, if I can find a way to bollocks it up I will."

"That's not true," he said sternly. "You need to have more faith in yourself. Others do. You should believe them."

"Dean," she said softly. "Thanks. For everything. I mean it."

He grasped the hand she held out to him and squeezed it gently before letting go. A loud sniffle from the next bed distracted them, and Ginny looked over to find Parvati sitting beside Harry's bed with tears in her eyes. She was staring at her knees while Harry spoke intensely, her hands twisting in her lap in obvious distress. Ginny and Dean watched while a tear dripped down her face and Harry stopped talking and grabbed his wand to conjure a white handkerchief which he handed to her. She accepted it quietly and stood up regally. He said something in a low voice to her and she nodded again, smiled briefly, turned on her heel and walked slowly out of the room.

Dean looked at Ginny apologetically. "I should probably go and make sure she's all right," he said.

Ginny nodded encouragingly. "Thanks for coming. And for being so understanding."

He smiled brilliantly at her and for one brief moment, Ginny was reminded of why she'd been attracted to him in the first place. She watched him chase after Parvati, but felt only relief when he caught up to the girl and put an arm gently around her shoulders.

"Regrets?" Harry asked her quietly.

She turned her head back to face him. "No," she said honestly. "Only that I hurt him. He ended it with me you know. Apparently he's not as blind as I thought."

"Parvati wasn't either," Harry said sheepishly. "She said I'd been wasting her time and that I treated her shabbily." He shrugged. "She was right."

"So, regrets then?"

"No," he shook his head. "Only that I used her. I can't believe we let things get so out of hand."

"It was my fault," she said miserably. "If I hadn't been such a coward and listened to that bastard…"

Harry didn't know what to say to that because it was mostly true. "I'll take my share of the blame for the past six months," he said finally. "I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me."

Ginny smiled and shook her head. "This is weird. We're usually _trying_ to blame each other; not the other way around."

She shifted on the bed and cleared her throat. "I want you to know that…um…well, I didn't…you know…with Dean. I couldn't. It wasn't even an issue with us. We…um…well, we're not _that_ close, if you know what I mean." She chanced a look at him. She wanted him to understand that he was the only person she'd ever want to be with like that.

Harry's eyes flared as he met her gaze. "That's good to know, Fury. Very good to know."

"Is it?" she squeaked.

He nodded. "Parvati and I didn't either."

"No?"

He shook his head ruefully. "How could I? After what you and I had shared? I knew it would never compare. Plus, I didn't want her to think we had that much of a future."

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but just then, Madame Pomfrey came back over to check on Ginny's ribs and Harry's knee. She examined them with a somewhat cross look on her face and grumpily admitted they could leave.

"As long as you both take it easy," she warned them. "Ms. Weasley, you need to keep that tape on your ribs for another week. That potion will work faster if you don't get in any more strenuous physical activities."

She stared pointedly at Harry.

"S'not my fault!" he protested, getting to his feet and reaching for the cane the nurse was handing him. "She started it!"

Madame Pomfrey frowned at Ginny whose face quickly adopted an innocent expression. "Regardless, I don't want to see either one of you back in here the rest of the semester."

They grinned at her and left the hospital wing. Harry turned to the left like he was going to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room, but Ginny hesitated.

"What? What's wrong?" He stopped and looked back at her over his shoulder.

"I just…don't think I can go back there right now," she said. "Everyone is going to be staring at us and asking questions. I just…" she sighed. "It's been a really long day."

"Okay. How 'bout the Room of Requirement then?" He turned around and headed in the opposite direction.

"Really?" Ginny said, hurrying after him. "You're going to go with me? You don't mind?"

Harry halted in the corridor and looked at her incredulously. "Have you missed the last hour? I know we kept getting interrupted, but I've been trying to tell you that, despite your best intentions to prove otherwise, I'm pretty certain that we belong together." He reached out, grabbed her hand in his and laced their fingers together.

"Beginning right now."

Ginny stared at their clasped hands and then back up to meet his eyes. "Are you sure?"

He took a step towards her. "More certain than I've ever been about anything."

"'Cause the chances that I'll bugger this up are pretty great."

Harry shrugged. "No greater than me screwing up."

"We're probably going to be fighting like cats and dogs in three months."

He laughed. "Gin, if we go three weeks without fighting it'll be a bloody miracle." He took another step towards her. He slid an arm around her waist and mindful of her ribs, pulled her gently against him. "It's time you accepted something. I know it's scary and your first instinct is going to be to run but here it is. Are you ready?"

She nodded, eyes wide and bit her lip.

Harry bent his head, put his lips right next to her ear and whispered: "Harry Potter loves Ginny Weasley."

He pulled back to see Ginny's eyes shut tight; a small smile gracing her lips. He hovered near her mouth tempted to kiss her, but wanting her to open her eyes first so she could see the truth in his eyes. When she finally opened them, they were soft and filled with something he was pretty sure was love. For him.

Ginny lifted a hand and cupped his cheek. Her thumb stroked his cheek just beneath a beautiful green eye. "I don't deserve you," she whispered. "And I don't deserve this chance. But I'm going to grab it anyway."

"We deserve each other. And you'd better," Harry said, just before his mouth captured hers. He kissed her slowly and thoroughly, his tongue sliding in and out of her mouth with ease.

Ginny just…melted. Her arms slid up around his neck and his cane clattered to the floor as he wrapped his other arm around her waist. She moaned and pressed against his chest. He kissed her harder, his mouth slanting over hers, and every reason why she'd run from him in the first place flew out of her brain.

Three minutes later they were pacing back and forth in front of the portrait that guarded the Room of Requirement. When the doorknob appeared, Harry lunged for it and ushered her inside. Once inside, he pressed her against the wall, held her in place with his body and kissed her again.

"I thought we should go slowly," he said, breaking the kiss to press his lips underneath her jaw. "We just beat the effing hell out of each other after all. Some people might think that would ruin the mood."

"This doesn't feel like going slowly," she gasped when his mouth found her ear lobe.

"Slow, past tense," Harry said, tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue. He knew they _should_ go slow, but he was damned if he could stop himself now. The one night they had together and the subsequent morning haunted him and he wanted to replace the images with something more…permanent.

"I think it bears repeating that there's no turning back after this. After this, you're mine and I won't let go," he cautioned, lifting his head. His eyes met hers while his hands slid down her sides to grip the hem of her tank top.

"I don't want to turn back," Ginny said quietly. "No more running. I promise."

"No more running," Harry repeated. He pulled her shirt up until it was bunched just underneath her breasts. His fingers traced the edges of the tape Pomfrey had used to secure her ribs. "For either of us."

He carried her over to the bed against her protests about his injured knee and quickly divested her of her clothing before laying her in the centre of the bed the room had supplied for them. He stepped back to remove his own clothes, his eyes fixed on the glorious picture she created.

"You look like a goddess," he murmured while unfastening his pants. Her skin was a glowing ivory, her crimson hair spread over the pillows like a fan.

When he was finally moving inside her for the second time in his life, that was when he decided he'd found a home at last. "Promise me you'll be here in the morning," he breathed, lowering his head to her shoulder. "I don't ever want to wake up without you again."

"I promise," she murmured, arching her hips to meet his thrusts. Tears sprang to her eyes and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I know you're going to doubt me but I promise I won't ever run again."

She whimpered when his teeth fastened on the spot where her neck met her shoulder. "Ginny Weasley loves Harry Potter," she whispered. "I love you, Harry." She gasped when he moved deeper and pressed frantic kisses to his shoulder. "I love you."

It was only much later, when Harry woke up the next morning to find Ginny lying on her side and facing him, that he really believed her. He smiled sleepily and stroked his hand down her side, caressing the dip at her waist and coming to stop on the curve of her hip. When his thumb rubbed softly over her hipbone she opened her eyes and smiled slowly at him.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Thank you," Harry whispered. He scooted across the few feet separating them and wrapped his arms around her, rolling her over onto her back. He buried his face in her neck and breathed deeply. "Thank you."

"Can you believe how sappy we've gotten," she murmured, resting her cheek on his head.

"It's just a matter of time before I send you flowers," he said, his voice muffled in her hair. "And hey, isn't there a Hogsmeade weekend coming up? We'll have lunch at Madame Puddifoot's."

She cursed him rather eloquently in parseltongue. He smiled into her skin and slid a knee between her legs. One hand trailed down the outside of her thigh and grasped her knee, pulling it up to wrap a leg around his waist.

"Mmm," Ginny moaned. "We should probably get back to the common room soon. Everyone is probably wondering where we are."

Harry shifted his hips, lifting his head just in time to watch her eyes roll back in her head.

"Okay," she gasped. "I guess they can wait a little longer."


	23. Chapter 23 Til the Day I Die

Chapter 23

It was a Saturday so when Harry and Ginny didn't appear in the common room until after lunch, most of their housemates were lazing around in Gryffindor Tower. The room grew silent when they entered, hand in hand; wearing the same clothes they'd been wearing the day before.

Harry gripped her hand tighter and led Ginny over to a grinning Hermione and a red-faced Ron. Occupants of the room watched them avidly until Ginny turned around, her hands on her hips and glared at them.

"What?" she said sharply. "Does someone have something to say?"

Her words had the intended effect and most people went back to what they were doing while Ginny sank gracefully down into a chair next to Harry.

"Ron?" Harry said timidly.

Ron took a deep breath and met his friend's eyes. "I know, just give me a minute," he said, running a hand a through his hair.

"Ron," Hermione hissed.

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm happy for you both, but I don't want to hear or see anything, got it?"

Harry and Ginny both laughed, but nodded in agreement.

"You," he said, pointing a finger at Harry, "will treat my sister with the love and respect she deserves."

"Of course," Harry said immediately.

"And you," he continued, pointing the finger at Ginny, "better not break his heart. You hurt him, I hurt you, understand?"

Harry blinked in astonishment at Ron's defence of him, but Ginny just cocked her head and looked at him curiously. Brother and sister stared each other down, Ginny's face thoughtful and Ron's expectant.

"Oh," Ginny said suddenly, recognition dawning in her eyes. "I get it. He's like your brother. Okay, I understand. Fine, I won't hurt him."

She smiled when Ron nodded, the tips of ears blushing red. "Er...yes," he said.

"Which is why this," he gestured between the two of them, "seems sort of like incest, but," he paused to shudder, "if it makes you happy, then I'm happy."

"Thanks, Ron," Ginny said, smiling broadly.

"Except for the incest remark, that was very sweet, Ronald," Hermione sighed.

"Yeah, mate," Harry said dryly. "Apart from the incest thing, it was _sweet_."

Ron scowled at him, but Ginny stood up and pinched her bloody t-shirt between her forefinger and thumb. "I need a long hot bath and a fresh set of clothes," she said ruefully.

"Me too," Harry said, looking down at his own wrinkled t-shirt. "In fact, I think this whole outfit needs to be burned."

"I'm going to my room," she told him. "I'll meet you down here in about an hour or so?"

"Sure," Harry said, smiling up at her.

Ginny turned to go and noticed the rest of the room was staring at them again. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to Harry. She saw the question in his eyes and decided that if people were going to gawk at them, she would give them something to gawk at.

Mindful of his still-sore knee, she sat carefully down in his lap and fisted the front of his t-shirt in her hands. "Close your eyes, Ron," she commanded, her eyes fastened on Harry's lips.

"Bloody hell," Ron moaned, covering his eyes. "It's already starting."

Ginny yanked Harry towards her and lowered her head to his. Their mouths met in a hard, bruising kiss that Ginny quickly turned into a full-on snog. Harry's mouth opened under hers in a small groan, and she took advantage, sweeping her tongue inside and giving quite a show for those who were daring to stare at them. His hands came up to grip her hips, and he pulled her tighter against him.

She plundered his mouth for a few more seconds before letting go and standing up off his lap. She looked around the room triumphantly at the shocked faces and smirked the whole way to the girl's staircase where she disappeared after throwing Harry an evil glance over her shoulder.

Ron peeked through his fingers. "Is it over yet?"

Hermione watched amusedly as Harry's eyes followed Ginny's retreating figure before slumping back into his chair and running a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Actually, Ron," his girlfriend said, "I think it's just beginning."

Once Ginny had soaked her sore muscles in a long hot bath and changed into something clean, she grabbed an apple she'd been saving and munched on it as she walked back down to the common room. Harry's warm laughter washed over her as it filtered up the stairs. He was happy and her heart fluttered in her chest when she realised that she was at least part of the reason.

"Ginny!" Seamus called the moment she came into view. Others greeted her and Harry half-turned in his chair, a large smile on his face. Several Gryffindors were playing poker at a table in front of the fireplace, Harry and her brother among them.

"Hey," she responded, smiling back. "Who's winning?"

Ron tossed in some chips, "Harry, the cheating bastard."

Harry made a sound of protest and laughed. Ginny went to grab an extra chair to squish at the table, but Harry reached out, grabbed her free arm and pulled her onto his lap. She squirmed trying to get comfortable and tried to fight the blush she felt rising to her face.

Everybody did a great job of pretending the situation was perfectly normal. As if they were used to seeing Harry and Ginny happy and in love – with each other. Harry's hand disappeared down to her hip as she swung her legs around and sat sideways on his thighs.

"Hey, you two," Ron nodded his head and tried to sound serious, "I want to see all four hands at all times."

Ginny threw a chip at him, which he caught in midair and happily added to his pile with a smug grin.

"Hey, that was my poker chip," Harry protested.

Ginny put an arm around his shoulders, discreetly angling the gap down her t-shirt for his viewing pleasure. "Ron needs all the help he can get."

Harry's smile faltered as his eyes drifted down, then up and back down again, "Okay."

She snorted at how easy it was to distract him and placed a finger under his chin to bring his eyes back to hers. When she gave him a quick kiss, his pupils dilated, and he got a look in his eye that made her shiver.

Colin snickered, and asked whose turn it was. "Are we playing or not? C'mon, I have to write a potion's essay sometime today."

Ginny ate her apple trying not to think about the way Harry kept drawing circles on the bare skin of her hip just above her pants line. His fingers occasionally dipped beneath the material and back out again.

At one point he whispered in parseltongue in her ear with a teasing voice, "You're breathing rather heavy, are you okay?"

His smirk was maddening, and the only retribution she could think of was to shift her position in his lap, making sure to rub against his crotch. "Yeah, I'm just fine. How about you?"

Harry inhaled sharply and still keeping his voice to a whisper promised, "I'm going to make you pay for that when this game is over."

She grinned, "I certainly hope so."

The play came to his turn again, and he raised three sickles.

His hand went back to her hip, but instead of teasing her skin to distracting sensitivity, he gripped her firmly. With a soft voice he hissed to her ears alone, "I tried to wait for you so we could be alone, but they were relentless."

Ginny's heart stuttered again that he would rather be with her than with his mates. Leaning in so that her lips brushed against the skin, she whispered in Parseltongue directly into his ear, "I love you, Harry Potter."

His breath hitched, and he cupped her face with his free hand, drawing her into a deep and tender kiss.

An extra loud cough from Ron interrupted them, "Do you two wait until I'm around before you do that?"

Ginny broke the kiss to look over her shoulder at her brother. She poked out her tongue, "Of course we do."

She climbed off Harry's lap, and he grabbed her hand, "Hey, where are you going?"

"I need to speak with Hermione before she goes to the library."

He looked crestfallen that she was leaving, but she shook her head at him and smiled. A wicked idea popped into her mind so she leaned down yanked him to his feet, dragging him to the edge of the steps.

It was her intention to get him off guard and snog him silly, but he was ready for her and took immediate control, backing her into the stone wall and pining her in place with his body even as his mates hooted behind him. Her eyes nearly crossed at the intensity and heat of his mouth.

When they finally broke apart for air she made him her offer, "I promise to be in your bed, in your _private_ Head Boy room and completely naked in less than half an hour. If you stay here and play for too long, I might fall asleep."

"Is that so?" He nipped at her throat.

"Yes." She tilted her neck more to the side.

"Maybe I'll beat you there and be naked and waiting for you?"

Ginny's stomach flipped. She wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and countered his offer, "If you get there first I promise to……" She leaned in and whispered the rest slowly and clearly so he wouldn't miss a word.

Harry audibly gulped.

_Two months later:_

It was understood at this point that Ginny had more or less moved into Harry's room. Being Head Boy had its advantages after all. A separate room was one of them.

Sleeping in the same bed stopped the nightmares, and it stopped Tom from visiting either of them in the middle of the night. Harry was only sorry they hadn't figured it out before. Plus, living with Ginny had very…pleasurable…side benefits. Like right now.

Harry was lounging lazily on his bed; arms crossed beneath his head, watching Ginny get ready for Quidditch practice.

"Romilda Vane is getting on my last nerve," she said as she toed off her shoes and loosened her school tie. "I overheard her with her gaggle of friends at lunch the other day. They were making plans to slip a love potion into your pumpkin juice tonight at dinner."

"Should I be worried?" Harry asked.

Ginny smirked, untucked her shirt from her skirt and began unbuttoning the white blouse. "Nope, I took care of it."

Harry's eyes glittered as each undone button exposed more of Ginny's skin and a pale pink lacy bra. "What did you do?"

"I think you'll be surprised actually. I told McGonagall. She took care of it." She finished unbuttoning her blouse and pulled it off completely before tossing it into a nearby chair. She stood facing the mirror in the corner of the room. Her hands reached for the button on her grey, pleated uniform skirt, but Harry, who was already dressed in his practice uniform, suddenly sprang up from bed and crossed the room in two quick strides. He stood behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Let me," he whispered in parseltongue before kissing her bare shoulder. One hand trailed down her side to find the button and zipper at her waist while the other slid down her taut stomach and dipped beneath the waistband.

"Harry," Ginny moaned. "You're going to make us late for practice again. Ron had a fit last time."

Harry's fingers undid the button and slowly pulled the zipper down even while his other hand delved deeper underneath the front of her skirt. Ginny's body arched against him. His mouth fastened onto her neck, and he sucked the skin gently while she writhed against him. The only sounds in the room were Ginny's breathing and the soft encouraging sounds from Harry.

Ginny's breathing was just starting to get heavier when a loud knock sounded on the door.

"Harry? Ginny? It's me."

Harry lifted his mouth from Ginny's neck long enough to shout, "Go away, Hermione!"

"I need to talk to both of you! It's important!"

Ginny cursed when Harry removed his hand from underneath her skirt. He kissed her shoulder apologetically before backing away and moving to sit on the bed. When he had dragged a pillow across his lap Ginny yelled for Hermione to come in.

Hermione opened the door and looked shocked when she saw Harry lying on the bed and Ginny standing in the centre of the room wearing only her skirt and bra.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked uncertainly.

"No," Harry said in a depressed voice.

"I was just getting ready for Quidditch practice," Ginny said brightly. She let her skirt fall to the floor and quickly stepped into her nearby Quidditch trousers. "What did you need?" she asked, fastening the pants around her waist.

Hermione grabbed Ginny's t-shirt from the chair and tossed it to her before taking the seat. "People are starting to talk about your…uh…living arrangements. Ginny's roommates have been talking about how it's been over a month since she spent the night in her own dorm room."

"I'm not giving her up, Hermione," Harry said firmly. "She stops the nightmares. Let people talk."

"I can speak for myself thanks," Ginny glared at him. "And I'm not some sort of object you know." She turned to Hermione and in direct to contrast to what she'd just said to Harry, stated, "I'm not giving him up, 'Mione. He keeps Tom away."

Hermione sighed. "I know, guys. But you're breaking like a ton of school rules."

Ginny shrugged and pulled her t-shirt over her head and reached for her shoes. "So what?"

"So Harry's Head Boy," she insisted. "He's got to set an example."

"If Dumbledore wants to punish us he can," Harry said, throwing aside the pillow and standing up. "Until then, people can talk."

Hermione sighed again and stood up to follow them both out of the room. "That's what I thought you'd say."

Harry watched Ginny sleep while he fastened his belt buckle and slipped into his shoes. It was ridiculously early on a Tuesday morning, but Hermione had insisted he and Ron get up before breakfast to get in an hour of NEWT studying. He wasn't really sure why he was letting her boss him around but it seemed to be a habit.

He walked over to Ginny's side of the bed to give her a goodbye kiss. She looked peaceful. It made him want to get right back in bed with her. She'd taken him seriously when he'd said he didn't ever want to wake up again without her there. Life had been better than ever now that she was spending every night in his room. The past two months had been the happiest of Harry's life. People were still whispering about the sixth year student who was sharing the Head Boy's room, but Harry and Ginny were so wrapped up in each other they scarcely noticed. He was amazed at how quickly they had made the transition from friends to enemies to lovers.

Harry leaned over and held himself off the mattress on his outstretched arms on either side of Ginny's head. He dropped his head and kissed her on the lips, lingering behind for two more quick pecks before he drew away. Ginny opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at him. She frowned when she noticed he was dressed.

"Where're you going?"

"Early morning studying session with Hermione," he reminded her. He kissed her again on the forehead. "I'll see you at breakfast."

"Mmm, no," Ginny groaned. She pulled her arms out from underneath the covers, slid them around his torso and tried to pull him back on top of her. "Sod Hermione, come back to bed."

"I really, really, _really_ want to, but I can't," Harry told her regretfully. "She'd kill me, and trust me, I'm going to need her to get past NEWTs."

Ginny's arms moved up to wrap around his neck, and she pulled herself slightly off the bed to whisper in his ear, "Just come back for a quickie, then. C'mon, we'll be real fast. No fancy stuff."

It was very, very hard for Harry to resist her just then. Her body was still warm from the bedclothes; her voice was a sleepy purr in his ear, and she was rubbing herself against him like a cat.

Ginny let herself fall back onto the mattress and grinned evilly at him before pulling the sheets down to her waist and exposing her breasts. Harry groaned again. He could tell just by looking at them they'd be warm from the covers and soft in his hands.

"You do not play fair," he complained, dipping his head to kiss her bare shoulder.

He felt, rather than saw, the smirk on her face. "You love it," she said.

"Yeah," he sighed. He moved his kisses up to her neck.

"You love _me_," she said.

"Most definitely," he agreed. His tongue darted out and tasted her sleep-warm skin.

"Okay," he said, abruptly pushing himself off the mattress and away from her neck. He straightened up and began unfastening his belt. "One quickie. But if Hermione asks, I overslept."

Harry stalked the hallways looking for the one thing that could help him take off the edge leftover from today's defence class. Most days he wouldn't need it after a simple defence class, but Lupin had them practice duelling, and Harry had been paired up with Ron against two Slytherins. It had been an exhilarating duel and challenging enough to get his blood pumping and his adrenaline going. Normally he would have grabbed his broom and gone for a fly, but recent events meant he was able to seek…other methods of release. He felt sorry for blokes who didn't have such an option open to them.

He saw a flash of shining red down a side corridor and spotted his quarry speaking to Colin Creevy and Demelza Robbins outside the Transfiguration classroom. Without breaking stride, he snagged what he needed around the waist and dragged her protesting down the hallway to the nearest broom cupboard. He tossed her in and stepped in behind her, throwing the strongest locking and silencing charms he could think of at the door.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Harry?" Despite her harshness, Ginny's eyes were alight with excitement.

"I need you," he said plainly. "Now."

"What happened?" Her breath quickened, betraying her casual tone.

"Defence class," he said shortly. "We were duelling and –"

"And you need something to take the edge off?" she guessed.

Harry nodded, unfastened his robes and shook them off onto the floor. His hands went to his belt. "What can I do to get you ready?"

"Nothing," she said, honestly. "The look in your eyes is enough."

Harry growled low in his throat and yanked her towards him. He slanted his mouth over hers and plunged his tongue into her mouth. She whimpered against the onslaught, and he relished the sound. She didn't often let him totally dominate, but had admitted that when he did, the experience was worth waiting for.

His hands finished with his belt and trousers, and he pushed them down to his ankles along with his boxers. He pushed her into the wall, captured her wrists with one hand and held them over her head. With the other hand, he felt underneath her skirt for her underwear and tugged them over her hips and down her thighs.

"Harry, don't rip them," she said. "You've ripped three pairs this month."

He decided to save time and left the underwear looped around one ankle after she lifted one leg to step out of them.

Still pinning her wrists to the wall above her head with one hand, he used his other hand to guide her right leg around his waist, and she willingly wrapped both of them around him.

"Gods this is hot," she panted. "Why don't we do this between classes more often? Shall we meet here every day? Beds are highly overrated."

Her hips arched towards him even while he silenced her with a searing kiss. Once he was fully seated inside her, he tangled his hand in her long red hair and pulled her head back until the long, white column of her throat was exposed to him.

"Ginny," he groaned, bending his head to her neck. "Shut. Up."

"Do you believe in soul mates?"

The question came out of nowhere. They'd been quietly working on their homework in the Gryffindor common room, and Harry had been lost in deciphering his notes from Transfiguration.

He looked up at her startled. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you believed in soul mates."

Harry set down his notebook and looked at Ginny. She was nervous about the question, if the way she was biting her lower lip was any indication.

"I guess I don't really know what soul mates are," he said finally.

"It's a theory," she said, doodling on a scrap piece of parchment. "Every soul has a mate. Souls are split in two, and it's possible to find the match. If two souls find each other they're considered soul mates and the souls can merge again."

"Hmm…sounds pretty crazy. What happens when the souls merge again?"

Ginny shrugged. "How should I know? It's a common theory in wizard romance novels."

Harry lifted an eyebrow at her. "So why are you asking me this?"

"I just…we're just so…you and I…you know?" she finished helplessly.

She looked at him expectantly, pleading for him to understand her.

"Um…what?" said Harry blankly.

She flushed. "I meant to say that you and I…we get on so well. It's so easy between us, despite the past. I can't imagine why we took so long."

"I love you more everyday," she said frankly. She met his eyes with defiance as if she refused to be embarrassed to say such a thing. "I can't imagine my life without you. It almost doesn't feel normal. I _need_ you. I always have."

Harry swallowed thickly. He needed her too — everyday and more than he could say. He wasn't so good with words, but he knew one thing: He loved her…body and soul.

"I don't know if I believe in soul mates," he finally said honestly. "But I know I'll love you until the day I die."


	24. Chapter 24 What Happened Next

Chapter 24

What happened next, Harry should have expected. He'd been so caught up in the joy of being Ginny's boyfriend; he hadn't seen the signs — hadn't noticed the darkness creeping in.

But how could he have noticed such darkness when his days were full of light? He woke up with Ginny, waited the rest of the day until he could see her again, and then fell into bed with her every night. They couldn't get enough of each other. Even when they were with other people, they felt the need to be touching. He began to wonder if there was something to the idea of soul mates after all.

They were so consumed with each other, they effectively ignored everyone else. Fortunately, rather than being irritated, their friends seemed only amused. He'd thought it would bother Ron that Ginny was spending every night in his room — it wasn't like they'd made a secret of what they were doing — but since Ron was spending every night in Hermione's Head Girl room, he guessed Ron didn't want to throw stones.

For Harry's part, being with Ginny was what he'd always imagined being with a real family would have been like. They loved, they laughed, they fought, they made up... Ron and Hermione had been his family for years certainly, but dating Ginny was the first time he'd had something of his own. Someone just for him.

Soon, it wasn't enough, and Harry found himself wanting even more. The thoughts that ran through his head when he looked at Ginny would probably have sent other boys his age running for the hills. But Harry knew what his life was like without Ginny — those six months they'd been fighting often haunted him — and the thought of not being with her for the rest of his life terrified him.

He hid his thoughts for weeks before he voiced them. And, in typical fashion, brought them up at the most inopportune time.

"Look at me," Harry panted. "I want to watch you."

They were in bed. Ginny looked up at him and he watched in possessive triumph as she climaxed, her eyes rolling wildly as they struggled to maintain eye contact with him, her mouth falling open in ecstasy. He relished the sound of her scream before he gave one of his own, and she held him tightly through the spasms.

He collapsed on top of her, their bodies entangled in a sweaty mass of limbs. He stayed there for a few minutes trying to quell the urge to say the words that were threatening to burst out of him. They wanted to spring out from the deepest part of his soul; it was a place he was sure only Ginny had ever touched.

Harry raised his head from where he'd rested it on her shoulder and lifted shaking hands to smooth back the hair that clung to her sweaty temples. He stared down at her, his eyes boring into hers. He could have said what he wanted to say a million different flowery ways. He could have told her how her love made him feel stronger than a dragon and taller than Hagrid. Hell, he could have played the poor orphan card and told her that until she'd loved him, he'd never thought much about living past his 17th birthday. He could have said that every time they were like this together, he spilled a little bit more of his soul into her.

But he didn't think she would appreciate such sentiments; so instead he simply looked into her eyes and said, "Marry me."

Ginny stilled beneath him. Her eyes went wide and Harry was reminded of a frightened rabbit.

"Wha - what did you say?"

Harry moved off of her and sat up next to her, cross-legged, the bedclothes wrapped around his waist. He ran a nervous hand through his hair.

"I asked you to marry me."

Ginny propped herself up on her elbows. "Marry you? As in…married. You want to marry me?"

"Forever," he confirmed.

"You're serious?"

"Completely."

She stared at him for a few minutes, and then did something he didn't expect. She laughed.

"Harry," she giggled, "I'm sixteen! You're seventeen! We can't get married."

"No, not right now," he conceded. "But you'll be seventeen in August."

"I still have a year left of school!" She stopped laughing, but she looked at him incredulously.

Harry shrugged. "So, we'll do it after. Or work around it."

She was silent for a long moment, her eyes searching his. "Why?" she finally shot back. "Why do you want to marry me?"

"I love you," he said stubbornly. "Isn't that enough?"

She just looked at him, and he rolled his eyes. "Fine. I want to marry you because you are it for me. This is it, Gin. No one else. Ever. I don't even want to think about it. I've been in love with you since I was thirteen, and that's not ever going to change. And because life is too short – particularly my life -- I need to spend every last minute of with you."

Ginny shook her head. "Harry, we're so young. There's Voldemort and - and everything…there's so much to do."

"I know. But I don't want to do any of it if we're not going to be together."

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it. She sat up and looked at him before shaking her head and moving to the edge of the bed. She reached for her nearby robe, slipped it on and turned to face him, tying the sash firmly around her waist.

"I love you, Harry," she said slowly. "We don't have to be married to do all those things together."

Harry tilted his head at her. "Are you saying 'no?'" He wasn't upset, he decided. He'd expected some resistance.

"I - I don't know what I'm saying," said Ginny, honestly. "I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that you're serious. This is quite a bomb you've dropped on me."

Harry got out of bed himself and let the sheet drop back down to the mattress. He reached for his own robe.

"Is it really such a surprise? That I would want to marry you?" he asked. "I thought I'd made it clear how committed I am to you and this relationship. Shite, Ginny, I've been committed since I was thirteen."

"And I'm committed too!" said Ginny, a little defensively. "But I'm only sixteen for Merlin's sake. And we've got all this shit going on. Marriage isn't something I've thought much about!"

"Where did you think we were headed?" Harry asked. "There's got to be an 'after-Voldemort.' What did you think would happen?"

"I - I hadn't thought much about it," she blinked rapidly at him. "Sometimes it seems like we won't ever get there."

"Well, we will," Harry said fiercely. "And when we do, I want to get married. To you."

Ginny reeled visibly. She wasn't sure if she was scared at the thought of being married, which was something her parents did, or if it was the shock that Harry had been able to see past the war with Voldemort and she hadn't.

"I can't think," she finally said. "I need time to think about this."

Harry nodded, his mouth in a tight line, and Ginny felt a sudden urgency to get away. She took off the robe she'd just put on and reached for her clothes.

"I need to walk," she told him. "I'll be back in a little bit."

Harry nodded again and watched her dress. She made it to the door before she stopped and turned back to ask: "Just so we're clear, you did just ask me to marry you, right? And you were serious?"

"Yes," he said dryly. "You're not dreaming."

"Right." She walked quickly out of the room and Gryffindor Tower, breaking into a run when she made it past the portrait. She wasn't sure where she was going, she just needed to get there.

It was midnight before Harry found her. She'd originally run out to the lake, but when it started to rain she had walked slowly up to the Owlery. She hadn't been ready to go back to Harry's room. She sat down in a corner of the tower room and hugged her knees to her chest. She was, quite frankly, a little spooked.

Why _had_ it been such a surprise? Harry was and always would be the only man for her — she knew that in her heart of hearts. She'd denied how she felt about him for years because at first she'd been scared of her feelings; and then the thought of loosing him had scared the shite out of her. But once she'd accepted it, she found that being with Harry only added to her. He was the missing piece of her she'd always felt was just out of reach. She trusted him implicitly, with her life…with everything.

Would it be so bad to be married? The whole thing seemed liked a remarkably positive thing to do. Ginny just didn't think she was ready for this. It wasn't that she didn't love him — she did, so much it scared her at times. It was the idea that they could move on and be happy. It just didn't seem possible, and she wasn't sure she was ready to plan her future. It was hard enough planning the next day.

She knew Harry had entered the room when the door to the Owlery opened, but nothing visible came through. Harry swirled the invisibility cloak off his shoulders and looked down at her, his face unreadable. He slid down the wall across from her and mimicked her pose.

There was a silence. Then: "I'm not taking it back."

Ginny looked up and met his gaze. He looked calm and unruffled. Like he'd made a decision about something.

"I don't want you to," she said softly.

"Are you saying 'yes' then?"

Ginny shook her head and hoped that what she was about to say wouldn't ruin them forever. "I can't, Harry. I'm sorry. It's just too soon."

He nodded. "I figured you wouldn't say 'yes' right away. I just needed you to know that I felt this way."

"I love you," she pleaded, "and I'm not saying 'no' exactly. Just 'not yet.' We're so young."

His head hit the stone wall with a soft thump as he propped it up. "I can live with that," he decided. "But I disagree with the idea that we're too young. We stopped being young about three years ago."

"So, you're not mad at me?" she asked timidly. "We're okay?"

He shook his head. "I'm not mad at you. I'm disappointed because I thought you might be ready for this but I'm not mad." He looked at her — his green eyes glittering in the dark. "But I'm not going to give up. You are going to marry me someday, Ginny. So you'd better get used to the idea."

Ginny didn't know whether to be insulted or thrilled at his forceful tone. She decided to go for the former. "I can do what I want, Potter," she said sharply. "You can't force me to marry you!"

Harry knew that Ginny calling him by his last name was never a good thing, but he plunged on anyway. "I won't have to force you. Eventually you'll _want_ to say yes."

Ginny huffed at that and crossed her arms over her chest. "We'll see."

Harry grinned at her, and despite the seriousness of the situation Ginny felt her heart flutter in her chest. How could she ever stand up to him when she went weak in the knees at a single smile from him?

He must have been able to see the effect he had on her because he got up to his hands and knees and crawled over to her side of the room. He sat back on his heels by her knees, a familiar look in his eyes.

"Oh no, we are NOT shagging in the Owlery. It's gross and someone could walk in here."

"Fine," he said, tugging on her hand. "Let's go back to our room."

Another thrill ran through her when he referred to his room as "our room." It was nice…sharing things with him. What would it be like to share the rest of her life with him? Ginny was only sixteen — she hadn't spent a whole lot of time thinking about things like marriage. Until now…

She let herself be pulled to her feet and followed Harry out the door. His arm reached back and sought hers. Ginny watched in fascination as his calloused but nimble fingers grasped hers and squeezed as he led them back to the room. It was strong hand, suitable for catching snitches, firing a wand and caresses so tender they sent her bones into pools of liquid jelly. Her eyes travelled up the length of his strong arm with dark hair on his forearm, and muscles that bulged slightly underneath his t-shirt and light jacket. The arm led to ever-broadening shoulders and a back that she knew was probably covered in fingernail marks from the last time they'd made love. Ginny always felt bad after she'd scratched him, but Harry wore the marks with pride; he said it was evidence of his sexual prowess.

Ginny had to squint to see the scrawny, bespectacled kid with wildly messy hair that had first asked her mum how to get on the platform at King's Cross. Just at the moment she was trying to remember what he'd looked like, Harry looked back and gave her such a boyish grin that she gasped softly. She could see him suddenly, that shy kid who had no idea how famous he was.

Deciding she wanted to be closer, she stepped up and slid her arm around his waist without breaking their stride. Harry's arm automatically came up around her shoulders, and he squeezed. He brushed a kiss against her temple, and Ginny felt something inside of her sigh in contentment.

Okay, she decided silently, maybe she _would_ want to marry him. Eventually.

The darkness that had been creeping in hit with a full force that took Harry and Ginny by surprise. Dumbledore had arranged for a surprise trip to Hogsmeade to celebrate the end of NEWT and OWL exams and most of the students took advantage of the sudden freedom.

Harry and Ginny walked with Ron and Hermione, Luna and Neville down to the wizarding village. They were so caught up in the joy and laughter of being among friends, they weren't as perceptive as they should have been. Harry would kick himself for this later. Perhaps if he'd been paying closer attention, he would have noticed a certain tenseness in the air.

The six friends arrived at Hogsmeade and split up to visit the various shops, agreeing to meet up later at the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer. Ginny and Harry spent an hour in the Quidditch shop before grabbing some candy at Honeydukes. They walked slowly to the edge of the village, their arms wrapped around each other's waists as they shared the bar of chocolate Harry had bought them.

Harry watched in fascination as Ginny's pink tongue darted out to lick a bit of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. He was just about to lean down and replace her tongue with his own when he heard the soft sounds of several people Apparating around them.

Harry vaguely heard screams from behind him back in Hogsmeade as he raised his head and looked straight into the face of Lucius Malfoy. He was standing on the path in front of them, dressed in full death eater regalia with his mask pushed high up on his forehead.

"How sweet," Malfoy sneered, pointing a wand at them. "Having a little date, Potter? Pity it's with a Weasley."

"Although," he added, looking Ginny up and down, "she's not half bad looking. For a Weasley."

Harry let the chocolate drop to the ground, pushed Ginny behind his back and lifted his wand, all in one fluid motion.

"Leave her alone," he said menacingly.

Malfoy tsked at him. "I wish I could do that," he said with fake regret. "I would not normally lower myself to touch a Weasley, but the Dark Lord commands that I return with her." He smiled nastily at them. "You understand, I'm sure."

"No we do not bloody understand!" Ginny exploded from behind him. She shoved at Harry's protective body and stepped up next to him, her wand in her hand. "I'm not going anywhere without a fight."

Malfoy sneered at them again. "This little display looks familiar," he mused. "Last time you tried this, someone died, didn't they? Why not avoid all that and just come quietly?"

He motioned with his wand to the Death Eaters flanking him. "You're severely outnumbered, you know. You won't win. My Lord wants the girl, and he shall have her."

Harry knew it didn't matter what the odds were, he would fight to the death to keep Ginny from Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort. He fought every instinct that was shouting at him to tell Ginny to run while he held them off — he knew she wouldn't go. She would never run from a fight that was about her.

He chanced a look at her and felt an immense pride well up in him at the look on her face. She didn't look scared as she gripped her wand and pointed it at a group of Death Eaters that were advancing slowly — her face was hard and determined.

Ginny shot a quick glance at him and their eyes met briefly before she turned back to the circling Death Eaters. "It was worth it," she said in a lowered voice. "No matter what happens, having you was worth everything."

"Don't talk like this is over," Harry insisted, and then the Death Eaters pounced.

Harry felt as if he was moving in slow motion. Ginny moved to press her back against his, and they fired stunners at the black robes that swirled around them. It was one of the things he counted on…that odd synchronization between them kicking in at the perfect moment. They ducked and pivoted around each other, avoiding spells and raising shields that deflected spells back at their casters. The Death Eaters made little headway and eventually backed off to regroup. They looked surprised at the level of resistance they'd received, but Malfoy just stood apart from the group, a smirk on his face.

"Impressive," he taunted. "But you're still outnumbered. Come along girl and we'll leave your precious Potter and the rest of your friends alone." He focused on something past her shoulders, and Ginny couldn't resist the temptation to turn around and look, trusting Harry to watch her back.

She gasped when she saw a horde of Dementors swooping down on Hogsmeade. And worse, a group of Death Eaters were pushing four stumbling figures towards them. Ginny immediately recognized Ron, Hermione, Luna and Neville. They were all held at wandpoint, their clothes signed and covered in spell burns. Ron's nose was bleeding and despite the calm look on her face, Luna had a split lip.

Ginny watched as more Death Eaters Apparated into the village behind them, and the screams intensified. She heard several killing curses being shouted, and her heart shuddered to think of who was dead. She knew the Order was probably on their way, but would they get there in time?

She turned to face Harry, tears threatening in her eyes as she reached a decision.

Harry saw the look on her face and his face darkened. "No, no, NO, Ginny! You're not doing it! We can beat them! Don't you dare - "

She raised a hand to his face and cupped his cheek. "I'm just buying us time," she said softly. "We both know this is a trap to get you to come after me; so go back to the castle, get everyone and then come. I'll go with them now - "

"NO! No fucking way!" he shouted at her. "I won't let you! Stop this, Ginny!"

"Look at what they're doing back there!" Ginny motioned with her head back to the village. "If I leave, they'll stop."

"Won't you?" she said to Malfoy, without taking her eyes off of Harry's.

"Of course."

"Ginny-" Harry began menacingly.

"It's the only way," she insisted. "Voldemort wants me, he always has, ever since the Chamber; and he's not likely to kill me as soon as he gets me. You'll have time to find him and rescue me." She gripped the side of Harry's face tighter in her hand. "It ends tonight, Harry. Can't you feel it? I can. This is it. I know it."

"Come along, girl," Lucius snapped. "I've not got all day to witness this sentimental tripe."

"Just a minute," Ginny shot back.

She went to shove her wand back into the holster on her wrist, but at Malfoy's raised eyebrows, handed it over to him instead.

Harry gripped his wand tighter and squeezed her wrist. He squinted his eyes in a manner that Ginny knew was his look of concentration.

"Stop," she said sharply, wrenching her wrist away. "You're not going to Apparate us out of here. I've got to go with them, Harry. There's a load of Dementors and Death Eaters down there and they've got my brother and our friends. One person for many doesn't seem like a bad trade off!"

Taking advantage of Harry and Ginny's distraction, Malfoy raised his wand and shot a spell at Harry's feet. A bright orange spell wrapped around his feet and wound up his legs until he was held firmly in place. He struggled vainly but the strange spell held him fast.

"Was that necessary?" Ginny asked Malfoy angrily.

Malfoy shrugged elegantly. "He was about to apparate out with you. I'd be a fool to think he wouldn't try anything else."

"Let me go, you prick," Harry spat at him.

"Not a chance, Potter."

Harry huffed angrily and turned back to Ginny. "You're not just one person to me," he snapped at her. "You're everything! And I can't let you go with him. Ginny, be reasonable!"

"I am," she smiled peacefully at him. "This is the right thing to do, Harry. You would do the same if you knew it would save them or me. You have to let me go with them."

"I bloody well do not!"

"Let me finish." Her fingers rocked over his heart. "I'm not afraid of facing him, Harry. I never have been. I've only ever been afraid that he would take those I love away from me." Her hands slid up to cup either side of his face, and she looked him in the eyes. "I would give up everything to keep you safe, Harry. If I don't go, who knows what will happen. A stray curse, a lucky shot." She shook her head. "I couldn't bear it if something happened to you, and I could have saved you."

"Ginny -" He began pleadingly, "you don't have to – "

She gripped his face tighter, her short nails biting into his skin. "I. Love. You. Whatever happens, loving you has been the best thing I've ever done. I never thought I would love anyone the way I love you, and I'll never be sorry for it. I'm not afraid, Harry, and you shouldn't be either. So you go back to the castle, get the Order, and then you come for me. I'll be waiting."

She smiled bravely at him, but Harry didn't buy it. He was so stunned, so fuzzy by what was happening that he couldn't think straight. Ginny was sacrificing herself for him? It wasn't supposed to work this way. HE was supposed to be the one –

Harry gasped when Ginny stepped away from him and moved towards Malfoy who reached out a hand and grasped her forearm in his. "I'll be fine. You can do this, Harry. I know it."

Harry's face was pleading, but his grip was sure as he held his wand on the Death Eaters. "I love you, Ginny," he said desperately.

She smiled tremulously at him. "I know."

He wrenched his gaze from Ginny's to look at Malfoy. "I'll be seeing _you_," he said pointedly.

"Can't wait, Potter," Malfoy grinned at him.

At Malfoy's nod, the Death Eaters began Apparating out of the clearing.

Harry struggled to free himself even as he watched as Malfoy disappear with Ginny, her bright brown eyes still locked on his. This was madness. He was just standing there; letting the woman he loved Apparate out with a bunch of Death Eaters who were intent on taking her to Voldemort! As soon as Malfoy was gone, the spell disappeared and Harry stumbled, trying to regain his equilibrium.

He knew the look of resolve on her face meant that he wouldn't be able to stop her, but damn it, her departure with the Death Eaters had filled him with a fear that stretched from his heart, through his lungs and down to knees that he wasn't sure would support his weight much longer. What was he supposed to do now? Find Voldemort and go in with both wands blazing?

Harry remembered the look of pride on her face. She'd believed in him, believed he could follow her and save her. She'd sacrificed herself so that he…well…the entire village really…would survive to fight another day.

Pushing aside the thought of what Voldemort and his Death Eaters would do to her once Lucius arrived with Ginny to the back of his mind, Harry turned to face his friends who were stumbling over the rocky path to reach him.

"She's gone," said Harry, cutting off the question on Ron's face. "Let's go." He stalked through the crowd they'd made and headed towards the castle.

"What do you mean 'she's gone'?" exploded Ron. "Where has she gone?!"

Harry didn't answer. He moved with a single-minded focus towards Hogwarts.

"Harry!" Ron grabbed his arm and swung him around to face him. "Where is my sister? Where has Ginny gone?!"

"Voldemort has her," Harry snapped. He pulled his arm away from Ron's grip. "Now let me go so we can get her back."

"Do you know where she is?" asked Hermione worriedly. She, Ron, Luna and Neville struggled to keep up with the brisk pace Harry had set.

"No," Harry admitted, looking back at her briefly. Her eyes went wide, and she sped up. They soon reached the castle's gates. None of them were surprised to find Professor Dumbledore waiting for them at the entrance.

"I don't know where she is exactly," said Harry, his eyes fixed on the approaching figure. "But I've a pretty good idea who does."


	25. Chapter 25 Rage

Chapter 25

Harry rode the winding staircase to Dumbledore's office. He was trembling with rage — his body, his mind and his heart were all warring as one, urging him to turn around, to GO FIND HER, to expend the energy he could feel simmering just beneath the surface in one violent, and hopefully bloody, strike that would end Voldemort once and for all.

The only thing standing between Harry and a complete explosion of anger and rage was Professor Dumbledore's firm grip on his forearm. Somehow the Professor could sense that if he let go, Harry would likely combust into such a rampage that it would take too many resources to reel him back.

Harry was torn between anger at himself, anger at Voldemort and anger at Ginny for sacrificing herself. He decided to focus on the anger at Voldemort rather than dwell on the fact that _**Ginny was not here**_. Thinking about her made him aware of a vast, black hole in the middle of his chest that ached every time he pictured the look of resolve on her face as she had stepped away from him and towards Lucius Malfoy.

Dumbledore's grip tightened on his arm, as if he could tell Harry desperately wanted to slam both fists into the stone wall of the staircase. All Harry wanted to do was run after Ginny, but despite the swirling storm of rage in his head, even he could see the sense in regrouping before going after her. They needed a few minutes to get Snape to tell them where Voldemort was hiding and gather the Order members who'd answered the summons Dumbledore had sent before meeting Harry at the entrance to the castle.

He was trying desperately not to think about how Tom and his Death Eaters would occupy Ginny for these precious moments.

When they reached the top, Harry wrenched his arm away and slammed the door open. The occupants in the room jumped and many faces paled when they saw the furious look on his face. No one spoke as he stalked in, his hands clenched into fists to keep them from shaking.

"Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley whispered. Her eyes were anxious, worry clouded her features. Harry could see that she already knew the answer to the question; why else would Ron have sent his Patronus to the Burrow telling his parents to meet them at Dumbledore's office?

"Molly, Arthur…" Dumbledore began, but he couldn't seem to finish the sentence. Harry bit the insides of his mouth to keep himself from screaming out his frustration. They were wasting time. Regroup — now.

"I'm going after her," Harry said in a low voice. He refused to look at anyone in the room; he couldn't stand seeing everyone else's pain when he was so busy wallowing in his own.

There was an immediate outcry from the Weasleys, the Professors, Hermione and the Order members who had received Dumbledore's message. Mrs. Weasley burst into tear, but the look on Ron, Fred and George's faces said they would join him.

"Harry, you can't just go waltzing into Voldemort's hideout, you don't even know where it is!" Hermione said.

Harry nodded his head, conceding her point. "You're right," he said. "I don't know where it is." He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Snape. "But _you_ know, don't you? And you're going to tell me. Right. Now."

Snape stared in disdain at Harry's wand, but did not move otherwise. Perhaps even he could sense how close Harry was to losing control.

"Mr. Potter!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall. "You don't pull your wand on a teacher!"

"So kick me out," Harry snapped. He took a step closer to Snape. "Tell me where he is."

"No." Snape folded his arms over his chest, his hands disappearing up his sleeves, where, Harry presumed, he'd stashed his wand.

"Harry, put your wand down," Dumbledore said sharply. "This is no time to turn on each other. We need a plan."

"I don't need a plan, and we don't have time to discuss this," Harry nearly shouted at his mentor. He stepped back from Snape, but kept his wand up. "Every second we spend here, Ginny could be -" he broke off, not wanting to say the words.

"Why?" Mrs. Weasley gasped. She lifted her head from Arthur's shoulder and looked at Dumbledore. "Why did he take her?"

Hermione cleared her throat and looked at Dumbledore questioningly before saying, "I - I think they were there specifically for her. They didn't seem to care about anyone else."

"But she didn't have to go!" Mrs. Weasley protested. "Ron's message said that she - she _let_ herself be taken."

"She was sacrificing herself," Harry said shortly. "She was protecting me." He whirled on Dumbledore. "Professor, I'm going and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Tell me where Voldemort is. It's time to finish this!" 

"Harry, you cannot simply go charging into battle with Voldemort," Dumbledore said soothingly. "Let me call the Order together, and we'll decide what to do."

The tentative control Harry had on his temper snapped. At Dumbledore's words, a burst of magical energy emanated throughout the room and red angry sparks shot from the tip of Harry's wand.

"There is no time," Harry said between gritted teeth. "I know he's setting a trap, but I don't care. He's got Ginny, and I have to get her back."

"I understand your feelings for Ginny are very deep -" Dumbledore said.

"You understand nothing!" Harry shouted, interrupting him. He advanced on Dumbledore, his face thunderous, his hands shaking with rage and loss. "Now you listen to me -"

"Harry!" Remus said sternly. "Back off. Get a hold of yourself. Fighting isn't going to save Ginny."

"It may already be too late, Remus," Harry seethed. "While we sit here and _debate_, Ginny is out there with Voldemort and a bunch of Death Eaters!"

Dumbledore sat down wearily in the chair behind his desk. "Harry, there are preparations that have to be made. We need more people before we face them all."

Harry leaned over the Headmaster's desk, his palms flat on either side of the blotter as he stared Dumbledore down.

"This is really very simple," he said in a deadly, quiet voice. "Either Snape tells me what I want to know or I start looking myself. Only when I find him, I won't kill him. I'll take Ginny and leave. The prophecy be damned!" He shouted the last word for emphasis and Hermione jumped. "If you want me to kill him, you help me find him right now."

"Blackmail, Harry?" Dumbledore lifted an eyebrow at him.

"I will do anything to save her," said Harry fiercely. "You can either come with me or not, but I'm going. I promised her."

"People are going to die," Dumbledore said softly. "Even more so if we do not prepare."

"Then don't come with me. I'll go alone."

"Harry, you can't take on Voldemort and all those Death Eaters by yourself!" Ron glanced at his brothers. "We're coming with you. Ginny's our sister."

"I'm coming too," Hermione said boldly. "Ginny's my best friend."

"Wonderful," Snape sneered. "The Dark Lord is sure to be scared of a bunch of teenagers."

Harry spun around to point his wand at Snape again. "Ginny let Malfoy take her so the rest of us could escape," he spat. "She saved our arses and now we save hers."

"If I take you there I will be exposed as a spy, and the Dark Lord will likely kill me," Snape hissed.

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE!" Harry bellowed.

The contents of the room rattled ominously and Dumbledore stood up. Harry spun back around to face him. His face was red with suppressed rage and he was breathing in heavy pants through his nose. The two wizards stared at each other. Harry willed his professor to see that he meant every word he'd said; that he needed to find Ginny through any means necessary. That she was…_everything_; that without her, the wizarding world might as well surrender because Harry sure as hell wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about Voldemort. If love was the key to defeating him, how did they expect Harry to do so when _his_ love could be dead.

No, he assured himself. She was alive. He would know if Ginny was dead. Wouldn't he? Wouldn't he be able to feel it?

"Very well," said Dumbledore finally. "If Harry will agree to wait one hour to allow me to arrange for as much assistance as possible, then perhaps Professor Snape will be good enough to reveal Voldemort's location."

"It's not that simple," Snape said through gritted teeth. "The place is protected by many charms and wards, only certain people are allowed in. I don't even know the name of the place myself. We are given Portkeys that allow us to travel to the Dark Lord when we wish."

"Then you will take Harry with your Portkey and the rest of us will follow somehow," Dumbledore reasoned. He cocked an eye at Ginny's brother Bill. "I do not think the wards surrounding the place will be a problem once Bill and I arrive. Do you, Bill?"

Bill shook his head, a feral look on his face.

"But how will you know where to go?" Snape asked. "I told you, the place is protected. I can't even remember how to tell you where it is."

"A tracing charm," Hermione said suddenly. "We can put a tracing charm on Harry."

Dumbledore looked at her mildly. "You don't think Voldemort will expect such a thing?"

"Does it matter if he does?" Hermione challenged. "He knows we're coming. He wants us to come, otherwise he wouldn't have taken Ginny."

Dumbledore nodded. "Perhaps you are right, Ms. Granger." His gaze shifted to stare at Harry. "I have been trying to keep you from this, my boy; to prolong this confrontation. But even I must eventually face that destiny cannot be stopped. It IS time. I can feel that now."

He walked forward and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. "You are right to want to save her. She is extra-special. I have never been more proud of students in my life than I am of you and Ginny. You have faced dangers and turmoil head-on and have only become better and stronger because of them." His bony fingers gripped Harry's shoulders tighter.

"You must save her, Harry. She is the key to everything."

Harry nodded solemnly. He ignored the sudden change in Dumbledore's attitude and the confused look from Ginny's family. He grasped Dumbledore's forearms briefly before allowing the older wizard to step away. Dumbledore turned back to the fireplace to begin calling Order members to a rendezvous point, and Harry faced the Weasleys.

"What did he mean, Harry," Mrs. Weasley asked as if she was afraid of the answer. "What did he mean when he said Ginny is the 'key to everything?'"

"I have to kill him," Harry swallowed nervously. "That's what the prophecy said. It's me or him, and neither one of us can survive while the other lives. It has to be me."

"But how does that make Ginny the key?" Bill asked in confusion.

Harry smiled faintly at him. "Because I love her."

Hermione gasped slightly and covered her mouth. "The 'power he knows not'; that's it, isn't it, Harry? Love."

Harry nodded while Ron and the rest of the Weasleys looked even more confused.

"Let me get this straight," Bill said slowly. "You're supposed to defeat Voldemort using the power of _love_?"

He nodded again.

"Well, how in the bloody hell are you supposed to do that!" Ron exploded.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure yet."

"Not sure -" Ron stuttered.

"Nothing matters except getting Ginny back at this moment," Harry said fiercely. "If she's not all right, neither am I. Don't you get it? If something happens to her -"

He broke off and turned around, not wanting Ginny's parents and her brothers to see the tears in his eyes. He swallowed heavily for several moments until he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He looked back around to see Hermione, who had tears in her own eyes, smiling at him.

"It's going to be all right, Harry. She's going to be fine. You're going to get her back."

"Yeah, mate. And then you're going to kill that sonofabitch -"

"Ronald!" his mother shouted. "Watch your language!"

"If I can't curse now, about this, when can I curse!" he hollered back. "Hell, mother, we're all about to face a bunch of Death Eaters, and Harry's going to get Voldemort! Even you should feel like letting loose a few obscenities at this point!"

Mrs. Weasley studied her son for a moment and then nodded briskly. "Very well, I see your point, Ronald." She adjusted her cloak around her and gripped her wand tighter. "But that bitch Bellatrix is mine."

Ginny tried to control her terrified shaking as Lucius Malfoy led her down a darkened hallway and through what looked like it may have been a ballroom at some point. It was funny – when the choice had been between saving Harry and going with Malfoy she hadn't been all that scared. But now, as her doom drew closer, she was suddenly terrified. She wasn't ready to die, she realised. She wanted to live to marry Harry, make babies with him and grow old. It sounded ridiculously sappy and entirely optimistic considering the current situation. She suddenly regretted not accepting Harry's proposal. If she died would he know that she DID want to marry him? That she'd secretly regretted saying 'no' ever since he'd asked her?

Malfoy opened a door and held it open, motioning for her to step through. Ginny squared her shoulders and entered the room. Death Eaters in their black robes lined the walls of the room. Their faces were solemn as they watched her enter. Malfoy pushed her towards a tall shadowy figure in front of the fireplace. She willed her heartbeat to slow down knowing that he could probably sense it.

Ginny heard a low hiss to her right and looked down to see the largest snake (besides that horrid Basilisk) that she'd ever seen slithering towards her. This must be Nagini, she realised.

Nagini moved almost sensually around Ginny's legs, squeezing gently as if in warning.

"Release me," Ginny commanded in Parseltongue.

If a snake could sulk then Nagini's face was almost funny looking as she backed off and slid back to curl up by her master's side as he stepped into the light. Ginny heard a low chuckle and finally lifted her eyes to look at Tom Riddle for the first time in nearly five years.

"Hello, Tom," she said softly.

Voldemort's eyes flared red and he hissed at her. "Do not call me that."

Ginny snorted. "Well, I'm sure as hell not calling you 'Lord Voldemort.' That's the silliest name I've ever heard."

Occupants of the room gasped and Bellatrix started forward angrily, but Voldemort held up a hand to halt her.

Ginny examined his face critically. "You sure look different. Nothing at all like what you used to look like. It's a shame really, you used to be rather handsome. Now…well, now you don't even look human."

"Thank you," Voldemort said triumphantly. "That's a compliment."

He moved forward and Ginny was reminded again of a snake as he sort of glided towards her.

"I know a secret about you," he whispered, bending towards her. "It's what kept me coming after you all this time. My loyal Death Eaters had many doubts about why I kept pursuing you, especially after you and Harry Potter injured me greatly at the Ministry. But I never told them why."

He reached out a long pale finger and ran it down her forehead, around her nose, and trailing over her cheek. "I made you," he said softly. "It's either the greatest thing I've ever done or the most the foolish, but you are who you are today because of me. I find the possibilities of that too attractive to resist."

Voldemort grinned at her and Ginny couldn't stop herself from shuddering. "It's almost like having a child. You teach them, you mould them and then," he sighed dramatically, "you set them free to take their rightful place at your side." He stepped back and gestured to his Death Eaters, his arms open in invitation. 

Ginny stared at him incredously. "I make my own choices about who I am," she said through gritted teeth. "I am who I am because of me, not you."

Voldemort shook his head. "I don't think so. Our shared experience shaped you in ways you cannot comprehend." He titled his head. "Are you angry? Yes, I can see that you are. Well, that's probably my influence. I get very angry quite often."

"I'm not your…your child!" Ginny spluttered.

"No, not in the biological sense," he conceded. "But then you are so much like me. Ever since you found my diary, you've taken on several of my traits."

It was Ginny's greatest fear. She knew there was a darkness inside of her, she'd been fighting it since the Chamber, and now, with Tom Riddle so close, the darkness was swelling. She fought it back with light even while she stared at Voldemort. Images ran through her mind: the Burrow, her parents, her friends, Hogwarts, Harry…"

Voldemort winced. "Please stop that. It's bad enough that boy keeps interfering, but I don't want to have to picture him naked as well."

Ginny focused even more on Harry and the Dark Lord stepped back, rubbing at a spot between his eyebrows.

"Fine," he spat. "I get it. You don't want to be like me. But that's because you don't know everything. You don't know the power –"

"I know enough," Ginny said sharply, "to know that I would NEVER want to be like you. Okay, so maybe I AM different since that diary, but I haven't forgotten how to love or to be loved. I haven't forgotten what's important in this life. I haven't forgotten the good in the world."

"Love," he scoffed. "I'll tell you something I once told your precious Potter. There is no love or good in this world. There's only power and those to weak to take it."

Ginny shrugged. "Then I'm weak. Because you can take your power and shove it up your scaly backside."

Voldemort's Death Eaters were bristling with indignation, but he just smiled calmly and lifted his wand to point it at her. "So be it."

It was too much drama and theatrics for Ginny. She couldn't help herself, and she laughed. It was a wild hysterical laugh that echoed in the room.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, wiping her eyes. "It's just so ridiculous, the way you act. Like we're in one of those Muggle films. I can't believe I was ever scared of you."

"Then you are very foolish," Voldemort said, his eyes glittering at her. "It's always a good idea to be scared of me."

"_Crucio_!"

The spell hit Ginny and she fell to the floor. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and she vaguely registered the satisfaction on Voldemort's face as her body arched in pain.


	26. Chapter 26 The Potential of Love

Chapter 26

Harry knew the plan was simple, but that didn't mean it still couldn't go wrong. Everything hinged on timing. He and Snape would Portkey to the location, the tracing charm would be activated, the others would follow and Dumbledore and Bill Weasley would take down the wards. The crucial moments would be directly after Snape and Harry arrived. It was important that he be able to get to Ginny before Voldemort realized that Snape had betrayed him.

Harry felt the tingle of Hermione's tracing charm wash over him, and he opened his eyes to find Ron and Hermione standing in front of him. Ron swallowed heavily, and Hermione's eyes were shiny with tears.

"Guess this is it." Harry tried to smile bravely, but he didn't feel much like smiling.

"We'll be right behind you, mate," Ron said, thumping him lightly on the shoulder. "No worries."

"It feels weird…to be going in there without you," Harry confessed.

"To us too, Harry," Hermione said sincerely. "But we'll catch up."

"Just – just take care of each other, all right?" Harry looked at them both anxiously. "I won't be able to handle if anything happens to either one of you." The admission cost him — he wasn't usually so forward with his feelings except around Ginny. But Ron and Hermione had stuck with him from the beginning. They were always there for him — even when he was being a real git. They were his family — the only ones he'd claim anyway.

Hermione gave a soft sob and launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. Harry let her as he patted her back reassuringly. Surprisingly, Ron tugged her away and hugged Harry himself. It was a quick manly hug that was mostly arms and a few bone jarring thumps on the back, but it meant a lot to him.

Harry pulled back, trying not to let on that he was overcome with emotion. "I'll get her back. I promise," he said fiercely. "And then I'll kill that bastard and we'll all come back here and have a great party."

"Deal," Ron said promptly. "Dibs on the Ferret."

"He's all yours," Harry grinned back.

Snape huffed impatiently from the corner, and Harry knew it was time. "I've got to go," he said. "But I mean it, stay safe. Don't get dead or I'll get really mad and do something stupid."

Ron smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. Harry accepted one last hug from Hermione and then walked over to stand with Snape.

The Potions professor rolled back his sleeve, exposing the ugly Dark Mark tattooed into his flesh and pulled out his wand. "Hold on to me tight, Potter. Wouldn't want you to get lost along the way."

Harry grasped Snape's sleeve tightly with one hand and kept his wand fisted tight in the other. Snape pressed the tip of his wand to the Dark Mark and pressed hard; the snake in the tattoo began to move in and out of the skull faster and faster until the sight was mesmerizing.

Harry felt a familiar tug behind his navel, and just before the Portkey whisked them both away he looked back at Ron and Hermione. They were the last thing he saw before the Portkey took hold, and Harry found himself spinning through space. He kept his grip firmly on Snape's sleeve, determined not to lose him, no matter how quickly he spun around.

They landed without fanfare in a hallway that Harry knew he recognized, but his brain felt fuzzy when he tried to recall where. He dropped Snape's sleeve and instantly went on alert. He pressed himself against the wall, trying to melt back into the shadows. They both remained very still, waiting for any sign that someone knew Severus Snape had Portkeyed in with an extra person.

Finally, Snape leaned close and whispered in Harry's ear so quietly that Harry had to strain to hear him. "He might not know yet, but he will soon. You need to move quickly and as quietly as you can. Ms. Weasley is most likely being kept in the basement where prisoners are usually guarded by two guards. You should have no trouble silencing them. Go. And quickly."

Harry nodded and pulled his invisibility cloak out from underneath his robe where he'd stuffed it. The cloak settled over him, and Harry became invisible. Just as Snape passed him on his way downstairs, Harry reached out and grabbed the Professor's wrist.

"Thank you," he whispered softly. He wanted to say more, but the timing and their history was against them. Snape was risking his life to save Ginny and had played the role of a double agent with more finesse than Harry thought possible.

Snape nodded, his eyes gleaming pieces of hard coal in the darkened mansion. Harry didn't wait around and moved quickly down the stairs towards the basement where Ginny awaited.

It didn't take long to reach what he was sure was the lowest level. He stood very still in the shadow of a doorway and waited to make sure no one was coming after him before he moved again. He crept stealthily down the corridor towards the voices he heard around a corner. He peeked around the corner and saw the two guards Snape had said would be there. One of them had a large bandage wrapped hastily around his hand; the other had several scratches on his face.

"That little bitch nearly bit my hand off, and I think she bruised my throat," the beefy blond one said hoarsely. His uninjured hand massaged his throat. "She fights like a cat."

"I know," his partner said grimly. "Look at what she did to my face."

Harry found himself grinning in spite of the seriousness of the situation. He felt like crowing and pounding his chest with pride for his woman. Although, he reflected quickly, Ginny would probably have his head for such a display. He was glad that being Voldemort's prisoner hadn't diminished her temper; and that he'd had the good sense to pick a woman who could take care of herself.

Another quick peek revealed that both men had been foolish enough to leave their wands on a nearby table while they felt sorry for themselves. Harry crept closer one foot at a time. He forced himself to move slowly and control his breathing so that his excitement and fear wouldn't betray him. He was positive the Death Eaters could hear his heart pounding.

Slowly, very slowly, Harry lifted the invisibility cloak and captured the two wands on the table. Then, before the Death Eaters knew what had hit them, he stunned them with his own wand.

Hurriedly, Harry grabbed the ring of keys from the blonde Death Eater's belt. He cursed eloquently underneath his breath as he tried key after key in the lock. He was still under the invisibility cloak, but someone else could come and see the stunned bodies at any moment. One of the keys finally clicked, and Harry swung open the door.

"Ginny?"

She was sitting in the corner of the room, her forehead resting on her knees. She looked up, frightened, when he whispered her name.

Harry stepped into the room and whisked off the cloak. "Ginny!"

She gasped and forced herself to her feet. In two great strides, Harry reached her and gathered her into his arms. Lifting her off her feet, he hugged her, one arm around her waist, one hand cradling the back of her head as he buried his face in her neck.

"Ginny," he croaked.

"Harry…gods, Harry, I knew you would come, I just knew it." Ginny sniffled into his shoulder.

Now that he had her back, Harry knew he would never let her go again. It had only been a few hours since he'd seen her, but the thought of what Voldemort had been doing to her during that time had driven him nearly out of his mind. He hugged her closer, until Ginny shifted her weight so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. She then lifted her head and kissed him forcefully on the lips. Harry wanted to melt into her; to forget about where they were or why they were here and press her against the nearest wall. Fortunately, or unfortunately, his sense of self-preservation was stronger than his libido at the moment.

"Ginny," he managed, when she stopped for air. "Help me."

He set her down and hurried back to the door. "We've got to bring them inside," he instructed, gesturing to the two stunned Death Eaters.

Ginny grinned when she saw her jailers knocked out on the floor. "Potter," she said, bending down to grab one underneath the arms and dragging him into the room, "you are a man after my own heart."

"I heard them whining about all their injuries," he said, struggling to prop the heavy blonde one in the corner. "Nearly gave me a hard-on when I realized you must have done that to them."

Ginny snorted and dumped her load unceremoniously on the floor, not even wincing when the man's head cracked loudly against the stone.

Harry used his wand to tie the men's hands and feet together and then, because Ginny requested it, tied them to each other in a rather compromising position after vanishing most of their clothes. He then locked the door behind them and cast a silencing charm on the area. Satisfied, he tucked his wand in his back pocket, stuffed the invisibility cloak back down his robes and turned to Ginny, his eyes suddenly flashing a dark green.

Harry's relief at finding her alive had disappeared leaving only anger in its wake. He stepped menacingly towards her, his hands clenched into tight fists. Ginny, who had seen this look before, took an involuntary step backwards. Harry took another step and grasped her by the shoulders, anger written on every inch of his strained face.

"Don't you ever, EVER, fucking do that again!" he shouted while shaking her forcefully.

"What else was I supposed to do, Harry?" she shouted back. "I couldn't let them hurt more people! I couldn't let them hurt _you_!"

She shoved his hands off her shoulders and glared at him. Her clothing was dirty and torn, mostly likely from the dungeon they'd thrown her in. Except for a bleeding gash on her temple and a slight tremor he was almost positive was from the Cruciatus curse, she looked little worse for wear.

"We could have beaten them," he said harshly. "If you'd just given me a little more time — there was no need to sacrifice yourself! You could have been killed!"

"Harry," Ginny shook her head. "They had us surrounded. They had Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville and the entire town of Hogsmeade. The odds were against us and you know it! All they wanted was me — it was a small price to pay."

"Small price!" Harry choked. "You're very cavalier with your life!"

"Not cavalier, just smart! I know when I'm beat!"

"I would have fought to the death to keep them from you!"

"Then you would have died!" Ginny was shrieking now, but she didn't care. "How is that supposed to make me feel better? Voldemort I can handle — you dying, not so much! This way we all lived to fight another day! You can't deny you would have done the exact same thing, Harry!"

Harry knew he was being unreasonable, but he didn't care. He felt his anger swell even more, but only because he knew she was right. He _would_ have done the same thing — especially if it had meant saving her. He couldn't deny her the right to do what he himself would have done without question.

Suddenly, a loud boom echoed outside the mansion and the ground underneath their feet shook. Harry had the startling realization that they were standing in the old Riddle House. This was where Voldemort had hatched his plan to kill Harry in the Triwizard Tournament; just outside and down the hill, Voldemort's muggle father was buried in the cemetery where Voldemort had been returned to his body.

"What was that?" Ginny asked alarmed.

"The wards," he guessed. "They must have fallen. Dumbledore and Bill were going to work on them after Snape brought me here."

"Snape brought you here?"

Harry waved a hand impatiently. "I'll tell you later."

"Fine," she said firmly. "But stop arguing with me, Harry; we have to go help and fight."

"Fine," he conceded. "I'll drop it and never bring it up again on one condition."

"Name it," she said recklessly, "but hurry."

"You have to agree to marry me."

"Marry you? Marry you! You're bringing this up _now_?" Ginny's tone reached all new levels of incredulity.

"Marry. Me."

"Harry, this isn't the time -"

"Look," he snapped. "In another life — a life where a dark wizard wasn't trying to kill me and take over the world — you were mine from the beginning. We would have grown up together, fallen in love at school…done things the normal way. I cherished you. I adored you. I loved you till the end of time, Ginny _Potter_. But I don't get to have that life. So I'll take you any fucking way I can get you. And I'll not apologize for one moment of it."

"A few fucking minutes, Gin. It might be all we have left." He cupped her face between his hands. "This is who we _are_. Our destiny is almost upon us, and I don't have any idea as to how it's going to turn out. I love you and in _this_ life, regardless of whether you think it's the right time, I don't want to walk out of this room to my death without knowing that you've chosen to be mine forever."

"If one of us dies," she whispered, her face pale between his hands, "none of the time we've spent together will have been enough."

"I know, Fury," his voice broke. "But I've loved you enough for two lifetimes. So, please, marry me. Say you will."

"I will," she said, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I wanted to say yes days ago…I was afraid you weren't going to ask again."

"I would never have stopped asking, love," he said tenderly.

Harry pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his. Her tears mingled with his own and they gripped each other tightly. Their tongues tangled fiercely as he held her head between his hands, his fingers tangling in her hair. Finally, Ginny whimpered, and he slid his mouth off of hers to press frantic kisses along her jaw line.

Ginny clutched at him, forgetting momentarily that Voldemort and certain death waited just outside the door. The love she felt for Harry was filling up every inch of her until she thought she would explode with the emotion. She was going to be his _wife_. Why had she thought this would be scary — to plan their future?

"I love you," she whispered as he buried his face in her neck. "So _much_. Ginny Weasley loves Harry Potter, remember?"

He nodded and kept his face in her neck, swallowing heavily past the lump in his throat. A part of Harry had always known that Ginny would eventually agree to marry him, but he was still mostly amazed that she'd said yes.

He pulled back to look at her and was surprised at the emotion on her face. As they stared at each other, the fight just outside their door faded away until there was only Ginny. He felt a wave of love wash over him until it was almost a tangible thing. He felt as if they were already married — connected in every way possible. The feeling gave him new strength; he was stronger than he'd ever been before. The magic hummed in his veins and danced in the air around them.

In that moment, Harry and Ginny finally understood what Dumbledore had been trying to tell them. Love was a power unto itself. It could fuel magic, life and the world around them. They stared at each other in amazement as the knowledge poured into their brains and magic shimmered in the air around them. Ginny lifted her hand and stroked Harry's cheek, watching in awe as magical sparks swirled on his skin where she touched him with her fingers. Harry felt her caress in the deepest part of his soul, and he groaned, leaning his head into her touch.

In wonder, Ginny touched his cheek with her other hand, cupping both sides of his face so that his skin was infused with a soft, golden glow. She could feel the love she felt for him running through her veins like liquid fire and pooling in the tips of her fingers where she was touching him. Harry's arms lifted slowly, and he settled his hands on her waist. When they kissed, Ginny felt a jolt and stepped back in alarm. She knew Harry had felt it too when he touched his lips with his fingers.

His eyes closed and Ginny felt magical strength pour into her. She felt ready to take on the world; as if she could cast a spell just by thinking about it.

The door to the room shuddered, and Harry's eyes flew open. The magical cloud that had surrounded them disappeared as they focused for the first time on their surroundings. A massive fight appeared to be going on over their heads. Ginny heard the shouts of spells being cast, and she felt for Harry's hand.

"I don't have my wand," she said in a low voice.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said, feeling in his back jeans pocket. He pulled out a wand and handed it to her. "Your mum sent it. She says it was your father's great-great-great-hell-I-lost-track-grandmother's."

Ginny took it and felt the power sizzle up her arm while red and gold sparks glittered around them. "Elvina Weasley's wand?" She whispered. The wand had been an icon in their family for generations; ever since Elvina Weasley, Ginny's grandmother several times removed, had used it to protect her home from an invading army of goblins and giants. Elvina had died in the attempt, but she had single-handedly protected the Weasley family home, and the wand had been on display in Ginny's Auntie Muriel's home since. Once, when she was a small girl, Ginny had gotten the courage to pick up the wand. The wand had come to life when she touched it. The experience had scared her so much she had dropped the wand back on the pillow in fright and never touched it again.

"Whoa," Harry whistled. "I'm no Ollivander, but I'd say that wand just chose you."

Ginny gripped the wand tighter, and smiled grimly. "What's the plan?"

"I've got to find Voldemort. It's the only way to end this thing."

"If I know Tom, he's probably sitting back with Nagini while his Death Eaters do all the work. He'd only fight you or Dumbledore; everyone else would be a waste of his energy."

"Any idea where he would be?"

Ginny tapped her new wand against her shoulder. "When Lucius brought me here we went into a really large room — must've been a ballroom at one time. Voldemort joined us from the dining room where he'd been holding court with some of his 'advisors.' I think I can find it again."

"Great, let's go." Harry wished he could tell Ginny to say behind, to stay safe, but he loved her too much to ask her to be less than she was. He shoved his protective nature down and grabbed her hand.

"Wait." Ginny dropped his hand and went over to Death Eaters in the corner. "One of them had a knife down his boot." She patted each of their shoes until she found the one she was looking for and pulled the knife out before slipping it into her own boot. "Okay, we can go now."

They'd just cleared the door when a loud explosion was heard around the corner, and a large cloud of dust made its way down the hallway.

"It must have been the stairs!" Harry coughed as involuntarily inhaled the dust. "Is there another way out?"

"Not that I know of," she shouted back. "We'll just have to climb up." She cast a bubblehead charm on both of them, and they dived into the mess using mostly instinct to guide them until the dust settled. Debris littered their path, but they soon reached the staircase; or what had been the staircase. Now it was just a door that opened into nothing.

"Looks like someone got a little too happy with a Reducto curse," commented Ginny.

"At least it was one of ours," Harry said, nodding towards the corner where a body draped in Death Eater's robes lay. He walked over and nudged the body with his foot. "Hey, it's Vincent Crabbe."

"How are we going to get up there? It's too far to jump." The entire flight of stairs had been blown away. If they could reach the door, they could make it to the first floor.

"I think I can use what's left to climb up halfway," Harry decided. "Then I'll swing you up to the door, and you'll help me up the rest of the way."

He jumped a few feet in the air and caught a board that was part of the original framework of the stairs. He pulled himself up a few more feet until he had a good grip and his feet were secure before he reached down and grabbed Ginny's outstretched hand. Harry swung her back and forth like a pendulum until he'd gained enough momentum to launch her up and over him towards the door. Ginny managed to grab the outer edge of the door and scramble through it before reaching back down for Harry.

That there was a battle on was obvious the moment they reached the main area of the house. Ginny saw Remus Lupin circling Fenir Greyback and Tonks battling a Death Eater she recognized as Dolohov. She and Harry moved quickly not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. As she led him to the dining room at the back of the house, she saw her father battling Lucius Malfoy and was only partially surprised to see her mother fighting a quickly weakening Bellatrix Lestrange. Molly Weasley had a gleam of triumph in her eye; Ginny felt like cheering.

She anxiously wondered where Ron and Hermione were and said so to Harry.

"They're fine," he said firmly. "They're probably with Fred and George."

The battle had spread throughout the house and the grounds as the Order of the Phoenix, Ministry Aurors and several people Ginny had never seen before, hunted down the remaining Death Eaters. Things were not going well for Voldemort. He was probably going to be really ticked off.

They soon reached the spot where Ginny suspected Voldemort was waiting for them — and if the way Harry was clutching his scar was any indication — he was pretty angry.

"Harry! Ginny!" Ron and Hermione came rushing up just as Harry had been about to open the door.

Relieved to see them, Ginny hugged them both quickly. "Is everyone else okay?"

"George got hit with a cutting curse in the side," Ron gasped out. "Mum took him to the hospital." His face broke into a sudden grin. "Right after she kicked Bellatrix's arse."

"We're going after Voldemort," Ginny said determinedly.

"None of you have to come in with me," Harry said suddenly. "It's got to be me anyway."

Three pairs of eyes glared back at him. "We're going with you, Harry," Hermione said fiercely. "So don't even pull that shite with us."

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry at her display. Luckily Ron took the decision out of his hands. He swept Hermione up in his arms and kissed her so hard, Harry thought he might have left bruises. "Woman, I love it when you curse," Ron said in a low voice.

Hermione blushed and shoved Ron back. "Not now, Ronald!" But he grinned at her and she smiled back. Ginny shifted her weight impatiently.

"Let's just get this over with!"

Harry took a deep breath and opened the door. The four friends stepped through and immediately stopped at the sight of Voldemort standing in front of the fire, his back to them.

The Dark Lord lifted his head.

"So, Harry Potter. You have come at last."


	27. Chapter 27 The Power of Love

Chapter 27

In a direct contrast to the previous battles Harry had fought with the evil wizard, Voldemort didn't waste time mincing words after Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione had entered the room. He merely lifted his wand and shot a spell at the four friends that had them all diving for cover. If his goal was to split them up, he succeeded.

Soon, Harry was throwing everything he had at Voldemort, but it wasn't making much of a difference. Their wands wouldn't work against each other so they both had resorted trying to curse each other without their wands meeting. It wasn't really working very well, and Voldemort was growing angrier by the minute. Harry could feel the other wizard's rage piercing his consciousness and soon he was fighting a battle on two fronts – both mental and physical.

Voldemort had allowed his attention to focus solely on Harry by setting Nagini on Ginny and Hermione. Ron had his hands full battling Rudolph Lestrange, who had followed them into the room, trembling with anger that Ron's mother had killed his wife.

"_Protego_!" shouted Harry as Voldemort shot another killing curse at him. The spells met mid air and Harry concentrated on forcing the spell back with his wand. Voldemort wrenched the connection loose with a snarl and dodged his own backfiring curse.

Harry heard a scream to his left and watched with horror as Nagini lunged at Hermione and struck in her the shoulder. Ginny bellowed in parseltongue and blasted the snake off Hermione's prone body with Elvina Weasley's wand. The snake hit the far wall with a good bit of force, but it merely turned around and sped back towards Ginny, his long tongue flickering, its head reared back to strike.

Ginny didn't even stop to think that a massive snake was speeding towards her with murder in it's slitted eyes. She desperately wanted to take a precious second to check on Hermione, but she didn't dare take her eyes from Nagini. She crouched down in a fighting stance, her wand outstretched, determined to stand firm between Nagini and Hermione. She saw Ron fire a spell at Lestrange out of the corner of her eye and heard the Death Eater's body hit the wall with a crack. 

"Ron! Hurry!" Ginny shouted out. "You have to get Hermione to St. Mungo's!"

Ron raced towards them, but the snake was almost upon them, and Ginny wasn't sure he would make it in time. She waited to strike, knowing she would probably only get one shot. The snake smelled Hermione's blood and wanted to finish the job. She could sense its hunger.

"Foolish girl," Voldemort hissed. "No man gets between Nagini and her prey."

The snake reared back and struck. It was seeking Ginny's arm, but she sidestepped the dripping fangs, aimed her wand and hit Nagini with a cutting curse in the side. The snake hissed and pulled back, swaying from the force of her spell.

"Maybe not," Ginny panted. Quick as lightning, she reached down and yanked out the knife she'd stashed in her boot. "But I'm not a man."

With deadly aim, Ginny brought the knife over her head and down, stabbing the dazed snake just behind the head. With a wrenching cry, she pulled the knife down, slicing the head nearly off. The snake gave a final quiver; its tail a final spasm and it fell almost gracefully to the floor, nearly crushing Hermione's bleeding body in the process.

Ginny stepped back, the knife still embedded in Nagini's head and wiped her hand on her jeans. "Yuck."

Voldemort stood motionless in shock. Rage settled over his features as he was slow to act. Taking advantage of the temporary lull, Ron reached his sister and gathered Hermione in his arms. With a final, desperate look at Harry, Ron activated an emergency Portkey that Lupin had handed out earlier and whirled away leaving Ginny and Harry alone with Voldemort.

"What's the matter, Tom?" Ginny smirked, stepping back from a dead Nagini. "Is your last friend dead? Your only friend? Thought you didn't have friends."

She whipped up her wand and fired a curse that looked suspiciously like a Killing curse. Harry didn't like the ugly look that flashed on her face as she did so, but it happened so fast he scarcely knew what was happening.

Unfortunately, Voldemort, either because he was filled with so much rage or because he was faster, shouted a curse at the same time. His reached her first. The strange purple light smacked Ginny in the ribs and she flew, almost in slow motion, into the wall behind her. Her body hit the stone with such force, Harry heard a sickening crack.

Harry felt himself screaming. He screamed in rage, shock and grief all mixed together; until the room shook with his wrath and a sudden burst of accidental magic. He watched as Ginny slumped to the floor, her eyes closed, her limbs limp.

Ignoring Voldemort, Harry rushed over to her. His knees skidded on the floor in Nagini's blood as he reached her and gathered her to him.

"Ginny?" He choked back a sob, but he could feel the tears running down his face. His hand was shaking as he brushed back her long, red hair from her face. Her skin was still warm as if she was only sleeping.

"Ginny," he whispered, bending his head to brush a kiss across her lips. "Please, wake up. Don't – don't leave me. Please Ginny, wake up…"

Harry could hear Voldemort laughing in the background. It was an eerie, bone-chilling laugh, but he could have cared less. All he cared was that Ginny was not responding. He would not say the thing that was hovering in his mind. Ginny wouldn't leave him. He knew this.

He felt like shaking her, yelling at her for being so stupid as to taunt Voldemort. He couldn't even fathom that she was… He sat there, cradling her in his arms, rocking her back and forth while tears ran down his face. She was the world, the..._his_ reason. How was he supposed to do what he had to do now? He wasn't sure he even could remember what it was that Dumbledore and Ginny had wanted him to do. He just wanted to stay there curled around Ginny's body with Nagini's blood soaking through his trousers until she woke up.

Harry found himself praying for a miracle. He'd never prayed before. He wasn't really sure who he was praying to, but if there was a higher power, and he hoped fervently that there was, then he asked them, promised them anything they wanted, if she would just be okay. He had no idea how long he sat there with her body.

Voldemort's patience only ran so thin, and Harry soon felt himself being yanked to his feet. Ginny's body slid out of his arms and back onto the stone floor. He kept his eyes only on her as a faceless Death Eater dragged him back to stand in front of his master. What did he care if Voldemort killed him now?

Harry prepared himself to die. He wasn't even sure he felt like fighting anymore. Part of him knew it was inevitable that Voldemort would be the one to kill him; what chance did a teenage wizard have against such power? The other part wished for it because if Ginny was gone, what would be the point?

The miracle he'd prayed for came in the most unexpected way possible.

He wasn't sure what he had expected; white lights and some sort of deep voice from the heavens had come to mind. He hadn't been prepared for Ginny to simply open her eyes, look directly at him and wink.

Harry blinked. Rubbed his eyes with one fist and looked back. She winked again, and a small smile touched her lips. Harry stared, his mouth dropping open in shock for a brief moment before he quickly shut it. He didn't want anyone else to know she was still alive.

Harry felt himself swell with a happiness he'd never known as was forced to turn around and face Voldemort. He fought to keep the smile off his face and stared at the wizard with the sudden hatred he felt for him. This man, this _thing_, had tried to take everything from him and had succeeded a good bit of the time. And for what? Power? Harry scoffed inside. Voldemort killed anyone who stood in his way, including Muggles. Who would be left to lord this power over if he continued?

Ideas were running through Harry's head at a rapid rate as he turned fully to face Voldemort. How was he supposed to kill him with love? Love was what…an emotion? A feeling? How was he supposed to get Voldemort to feel something so completely foreign to him? He remembered the moment he and Ginny had shared in the basement. Love had been a physical magical thing they could feel. It had surrounded them, existed inside and outside of them; they had practically swum in it. But what did it mean? And if their wands didn't work against each other how could he use a spell? What spell could transfer…_oh_…of course. The answer came to him in a flash.

It was ridiculously simple. As far as Harry knew, it was an unnatural use of the spell, but he sensed…he _knew_ it would work.

He didn't chance a look back at Ginny, but he knew she was watching, her eyes open in tiny slits. And the fact that she was alive, waiting for him to finish this so they could have the rest of their lives together, filled him with such joy, such peace and such a clear understanding of what he had to do that he lifted his wand, a fraction of a second faster than Voldemort and bellowed, _"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

He thought of Ginny; her face, her hair, her smile, her laugh…her love. The corporeal Patronus that sped towards the Dark Lord wasn't the usual ghostly, glowing white figure. It was a bright golden stag, bigger than Harry had ever seen it; and when it hit Voldemort in the centre of his chest, it carried the depth and weight of Harry's love for Ginny. Tom Riddle erupted in a horrible, gut-wrenching scream when the horns of the stag pierced the centre of his flesh. Harry imagined that he could see the love magic pouring into Voldemort, burning away all the cruelty and hate — the foundations on which Tom Riddle had built his entire life. He imagined that he could see his love for Ginny binding itself to the ancient love magic Lily Potter had used when she protected her son; and that had swum in Harry's veins and later in Tom Riddle's when he used Harry's blood to return to his body. He could sense the two running together until their combined force was explosive.

Harry watched as Voldemort dropped his wand and pressed both hands to the side of his head as his body twisted in on itself, trying to outrun what he must have known was coming. His body suddenly went rigid, and then the force of Harry's and Lily's love exploded outward. Tom Riddle's body bowed painfully backwards as his body shone with the brightest light Harry had ever seen. The Death Eaters surrounding them shielded their eyes as the light swept through the room with a force like the wind. The love magic left the room as quickly as it had come, and Voldemort's body deflated like a balloon until the only thing left was an empty shell that fell almost gracefully to the floor.

There was one, brief moment of exultation. Joy flooded Harry as he realised that, for the first time in his seventeen years, he was _free_. But the joy was quickly quelled when Harry felt something inside of him ripping, a tearing in his mind. He fell to his knees in shock as the pain moved through him until every molecule of his body felt like it was being twisted in two. He heard a soft scream he recognized as Ginny and tried to get to her, but the pain overtook him and then, everything went black.


	28. Chapter 28 The Sweetest Thing

Chapter 28

Harry awoke slowly, his brain registering his surroundings as his senses returned to him one by one. He was lying on his back on a mattress with crisp white linens that had a medicinal smell. If he hadn't felt like his mouth was glued shut, he would have groaned. Judging from the familiar feeling, he was pretty certain he was back in the Hogwarts hospital wing.

Someone – he couldn't tell who – stuck a straw in his mouth, and he gulped cool, refreshing water down greedily.

"Thanks," he croaked, lying back down on his pillows.

The same someone handed him his glasses, and Harry lifted heavy arms to place them on his face. He blinked twice and was only half-surprised to see Albus Dumbledore sitting beside him.

His professor looked a little worse for wear. His usually fine robes were covered in dirt, dust and spell burns. Half of his long, white snowy beard had been singed off and there were small cuts on his hands and face.

There were many questions that Harry wanted to ask. But his mind settled quickly only on one question. He had his own ideas about what had happened after he'd killed Voldemort, and he could examine them later. His body ached and trembled with some previous trauma, but he was truly concerned with only one thing.

"Ginny?"

"She will be just fine," Dumbledore assured him. "She's lying just over there." He indicated with his head, and Harry followed his gaze to the bed directly next to him. Ginny was lying peacefully, her hands folded neatly on top of the bedclothes. It looked an unnatural pose for her to be sleeping in. Normally, she flung arms and legs all over the mattress.

"Mrs. Weasley wasn't sure it was proper for her only daughter to be lying in bed so nearby to her boyfriend." The professor's eyes twinkled. "But I convinced her that the two of you would recover faster if you were close together. I expect she'll wake up any moment now."

"What about Hermione? Nagini-"

"Hermione will be fine as well. Ron got her to St. Mungo's just in time. The wound wasn't very deep, and thanks to a similar bite on Arthur Weasley two years ago, they knew exactly how to treat her."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding.

The Headmaster sat back in his chair beside Harry's bed with his own relieved sigh. "I am happy you are finally awake, Harry."

"How long have I been out?" It was an effort to talk, but Harry wanted to stay awake as long as possible to see if Ginny would wake up.

"Two days," Dumbledore said gravely. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Pain," Harry said grimly. "Wrenching pain. It was the part of me that's Voldemort, wasn't it? When he died…when I killed him…that part of him inside of me died as well, didn't it?"

"I believe so. I also believe the same thing happened to Ginny. The connection you both shared with Tom Riddle was more symbiotic than we all realized."

Dumbledore grasped Harry's hand and squeezed it tightly. "Thank you, Harry. Thank you for getting rid of him. The world owes you a great debt."

"I just want to sleep," Harry said frankly. "And to be left alone with Ginny. And Ron and Hermione," he added as an afterthought.

If it was possible for Dumbledore's eyes to twinkle any more, Harry thought they might explode into a million tiny fireworks.

"The love you two share…it is inspirational," he said, smiling down at Harry. "It's what killed him, in the end. The one power he knew not, I believe."

Harry nodded. "I - I used a Patronus, Professor. But honestly, I don't have the slightest clue how it worked. I just...knew...somehow that it would. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. The Patronus – it was gold. I was thinking of Ginny at the time." Harry knew he wasn't doing a very good job of explaining how he'd managed to defeat the most evil wizard the world had ever seen, but he wasn't quite sure what had happened and even less sure how to explain it.

Dumbledore nodded. "I wondered. Perhaps you will be good enough to give me your memory of the event for my Pensieve at a later date." He took a deep breath and stood up.

"The entire wizarding world is clamouring for your attention, but we've put them all off. Hogwarts does not appreciate reporters trying to sneak in. I'm afraid Ms. Skeeter has not been seen for some time after she tried to sneak in through the tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow."

Harry could only feel gratitude at this piece of information.

"But the Weasleys and Ms. Granger have been waiting rather impatiently for you to wake up," he continued. "So if you are feeling up to a few visitors?"

Harry nodded, relieved to hear that they were all okay.

"Professor," he put out a hand to stop the Headmaster from leaving. "Who didn't make it back?"

Dumbledore's face became solemn. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes." He had to know.

Dumbledore sat back down and began a recitation of names that was entirely too long in Harry's opinion. The Order had taken heavy hits, including Mad-Eye Moody, Hestia Jones and Mundungus Fletcher. Apparently the word of the impending confrontation had spread that night and several other witches and wizards had Apparated to the Riddle house after the wards had come down to help in the fight. Harry was shocked to learn that Oliver Wood and Alicia Spinnet had both perished and that Cornelius Fudge had died.

"And…Severus Snape."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore in alarm. "Snape? Professor Snape?"

Dumbledore nodded, his face shadowed in grief. "He - he jumped in front of a curse meant for me. It was a ridiculously brave thing to do." He swallowed heavily. "And completely unnecessary. There was no need -"

"Professor," Harry interrupted. "I'm sure he did it because he felt…well, he respected you." Harry didn't want to say what he really meant; he figured Snape would not have appreciated such a sentiment. But it was obvious that Snape held allegiance to only one person — Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded and busied himself with smoothing the front of his robes. "Yes, well…shall I let the family in?" He stood up again, and folded his hands in his sleeves.

"We've been busy tracking down the remaining Death Eaters," he told Harry. "We've got most of them. The ones that ran were panicked and very easy to find. Ron Weasley brought in Draco Malfoy." Dumbledore smiled in spite of the gravity of the previous conversation. "He seemed to take an intense pleasure in it."

Harry grinned. He was glad Ron had a chance to take the bugger out. Dumbledore crossed the room and opened the door. Harry heard him speak quietly and low murmurs answer him.

Before too long, Mrs. Weasley swept in and crossed quickly to his bedside where she enfolded him in a massive hug. The rest of the Weasleys joined her and crowded around his bedside, talking excitedly until Harry was no longer certain that his headache was leftover from his battle with Voldemort.

It was when Ron was recounting his battle with Draco Malfoy that Ginny finally awoke. Unlike Harry, she didn't wake up slowly; they suddenly heard a loud sob, and Ginny sat straight up in her bed, gasping Harry's name.

"I'm here," Harry said, relieved she'd finally woken up. "Ginny, I'm fine. You're fine."

Every bone in his body ached to go to her as he watched Madame Pomfrey rush to her bedside and wave her wand over her head and right knee, which apparently she'd twisted when Voldemort had thrown her against the wall. Once Pomfrey had pronounced her healed, the Weasleys rushed to fuss over their daughter and sister. Ginny lay weakly on her bed as she let them hover over her, but her eyes kept straying to Harry's.

"_Harry Potter loves Ginny Weasley_," he mouthed when he'd caught her eye.

She smiled at him, and he could see the beginnings of the tears in her eyes. He watched as she struggled to rein them in. Harry knew she wouldn't want her family to see her cry. He suddenly felt irritated, and wished they would all go away and leave them in peace. He needed to be alone with Ginny, to hold her, to be _inside_ her — the only place he'd ever felt at home.

It was dark before Professor Dumbledore came back and noticed the pleading and near-panicked expression on Harry's face. Harry was grateful that his professor understood immediately what needed to be done as he quickly ushered the Weasleys and Hermione out of the hospital wing.

"Harry and Ginny need their rest," he informed them. "You can come back tomorrow."

Mrs. Weasley kissed Harry's forehead one last time, and Hermione hugged Ginny a little too hard in her eagerness, but then they were alone and it was blissful peace. Ginny collapsed back on her bed in weariness and closed her eyes.

"I love them, but I thought they'd never leave," she moaned.

"Me too." Harry swivelled his head on his pillow to look at her. "You okay?"

Ginny bit her lip and nodded slowly, but Harry saw the tears welling up again. Shocked that Ginny would allow herself to cry, Harry forced himself to shaky legs and talked his muscles into moving the few feet to her bed. He sat on the edge of her mattress and gathered her to him. He placed her head on his shoulder and cradled her while she let loose with loud, wracking sobs. He felt her hot tears wetting his hospital gown, and he pressed back, pushing her over on the mattress so he could stretch out beside her.

Harry didn't know how long he held Ginny while she cried; he suspected it was the first good cry she'd had since he'd rescued her in the Chamber of Secrets. Her sobs eventually slowed until she was sniffling with only the occasional tremor.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered, hugging her tighter. "When that curse hit you, and you fell…fuck, Ginny…_I_ was dead."

"I know you did," she said, sniffling. "I was knocked out for a little bit. I think he wanted to separate us by making one of us think the other was dead."

"It doesn't matter now, he's gone and we're never going to have to put up with him again."

"It's hard to believe," she said, a note of wonder creeping into her voice. She lifted her head from his shoulder and gazed at him. "And we're both alive. Harry, I wasn't sure that would happen."

"Just as a reminder, you promised to marry me, you can't take it back."

"I wasn't going to," she said, sounding offended. "But I insist upon hyphenating my name."

"As long as there is a Potter in there somewhere you can call yourself whatever you want."

"And no babies."

Harry's hands that had been tracing circles on her back stilled. "Not ever?" He'd be lying if he said his entire being didn't warm at the thought of the babies they would make together. Little girls with bright red hair and green eyes with tempers to match their mum.

"Well…no, not ever, but not for a long time. I'm too young to be saddled down with a child. And I don't know the first thing about babies. The very idea scares me to death."

Harry, who knew when to keep his mouth shut, decided this was probably not the best time to tell her he wanted a whole houseful of children. He could work her into the idea of having children.

"Fine. No children right away. It's settled then? Should I go get Dumbledore to officiate? We can do it right here."

Ginny laughed and snuggled her face back into his neck. "I think we can wait until I turn seventeen. It's only a few months away."

"Fine," he sighed. "But let's not tell anyone okay? I can't take all the attention."

Ginny agreed quickly, and then said, "Hey, aren't I supposed to get a ring?" 

Harry flushed. "Actually, I do have one for you. It's in my room though. You'll have to wait a little longer I'm afraid." He'd picked the ring up ages ago on a trip to Hogsmeade. It had been a whim — the idea of proposing had been swirling in his head for weeks and when he'd seen the simple emerald ring in the window of the jewellers, he couldn't resist.

"I should have never said yes without getting the ring first," Ginny grumped. "Stupid."

It was Harry's turn to laugh. They lay in a comfortable silence, holding each other until Madam Pomfrey turned out the lights, and they heard a soft click as she retired to her rooms for the night.

As soon as he was sure Madam Pomfrey wasn't coming back, Harry turned on his side to face Ginny.

"I am so proud of you," she whispered, her fingers tracing the lines of his face. "I knew you could do it."

"I wouldn't have been able to do it without you," he said honestly. "Voldemort was rather stupid in the end. If he hadn't shot that curse at you, I would never have gotten angry enough to kill him. As soon as I realized you were alive, I knew I could do it. It's sort of his fault really."

"He was remarkably narrow-sighted," Ginny said. "He never took into account the things he didn't understand. Like love. Your love for me. Your mother's love for you. Our love for each other." She kissed him lightly and then pulled back.

"The pain," she said suddenly. "Why did it hurt so much, when you killed him? I thought I was being ripped in half."

"Dumbledore reckons it was the connection we shared with him. It's gone now that he's dead. I can feel it, almost as if there's an empty spot inside of me. It's…weird."

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment and then nodded. "He is gone. Merlin, what a relief. Guess I'll have to get used to that." She shivered. "Although every time I hear a whisper on the wind, I'm going to think its Tom again."

Harry hugged her again and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'll be there."

"I know," she smiled at him. "You always are."

"We've come quite a long way, haven't we?"

She nodded. "But it didn't start getting really good until we started sleeping together."

Harry agreed wholeheartedly, but instead he said, "There were some good times before that."

"Yeah."

Harry couldn't stop himself from leaning a few inches and covering her mouth with his. He'd been holding himself in check since she woke up. He was just so glad she was _alive_, he wanted to feel her, to touch her, to know that she lived.

The kiss quickly escalated into something deeper. Her hands fisted in his hair. Harry pressed harder, sweeping his tongue inside her mouth anxious to brand her, to get the taste of her back on his lips.

Harry ignored his aches and pains — and completely forgot about hers — when he propped himself up on one elbow, cradling her head in the palm of his hand. His other hand roamed freely, tugging back the sheet that covered her and caught her behind her knee. It travelled slowly up her thigh, taking the hospital gown with it.

"No!" Ginny wrenched her mouth from his. "Harry, we can't! Not here. Madam Pomfrey is just in the other room!"

"Ginny," Harry panted and rested his forehead on hers. "You don't get it, do you? I thought you were dead! I thought I had died with you! Do you have any idea how that made me feel? I was so scared -" He broke off to press urgent kisses down the side of her face. "Kiss me back, Ginny. Bloody hell, show me you're alive."

It took Ginny all of two seconds to make up her mind. Her entire body felt like it had been broken and then put back together, but she couldn't and wouldn't ignore the urgency in Harry's voice. She pushed him onto his back and moved to straddle him, whipping the gown off once she settled on top. Harry hissed his approval and cupped her breasts possessively, plumping and kneading until she thought she would go mad with the sensation. She leaned down to kiss him and lifted her hips slightly so she could work his gown off. Soon they were both naked and as she laved his nipples with her tongue, she could see the strain on his face from holding back.

_Show me you're alive_, he'd said. Details of what had happened that night were coming back to her in flashes and Ginny felt a surge of Harry's same urgency every time she remembered what they had faced. They were alive, dammit — she'd already spent a good twenty minutes crying in relief over it. And she _hated_ crying. It ticked her off and made her stomach feel weird. Better shagging than crying any day.

Harry held onto a large handful of memories from the days that followed the death of Voldemort. The way the Weasley family treated him like their own, the way Ron had clung to him in a moment of relief that he was alive, the way Dumbledore had said he was proud of him, the way Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown got rid of Rita Skeeter in a most ingenious fashion; the standing ovation the remaining Hogwarts students had given him, Ron, Hermione and Ginny; and the biggest, knock-down, drag-out, lasted-three-days party thrown by Fred and George that Hogwarts had ever seen. But his favourite, his absolute favourite, was that first night after he'd awoken in the hospital wing. In the days that followed, every time he closed his eyes,he could recall with startling clarity a naked Ginny astride him, her head thrown back in ecstasy, her long red hair tickling the tops of his thighs. The moonlight shone through the windows and across her breasts, highlighting her navel and narrow waist; and for Harry, it was the sweetest memory ever.


	29. Chapter 29 Ready, Set, Go

Chapter 29

The Burrow was silent. More quiet than it been for several years. With Voldemort gone there were no restless sleepers or nightmarish cries or the quiet thuds of constant patrols around the house. The occupants slept peacefully, trusting that the wards surrounding the property were enough to keep out pesky reporters and other unwelcome guests.

It was so quiet in fact that Hermione's cat Crookshanks was startled when a soft _"Lumos"_ was heard from the foot of the staircase in the kitchen. The soft light caught him square in the face, and he blinked rapidly before jumping down from the kitchen table, knowing that he would be scolded if found there.

"Ginny?" a voice whispered.

"I'm here," came the whispered reply.

The light moved until it shone on the petite redhead standing in the doorway to the living room. She was dressed for travel; a plain woollen cloak covered her jeans, heavy boots and a bulky sweater. One hand gripped her wand while the other grasped a carpetbag.

"Put the light away, Harry," she said irritably. "Mum's got radar about such things."

Harry put out the light, but kept his wand. He pointed it at the bag in Ginny's hand and mumbled a quick spell. The bag shrank and Ginny pocketed it. He turned his wand on his own bag, shrunk it and shoved it in his own pocket.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked quietly.

She nodded and stepped closer to him as he snaked his arm around her waist. He brushed a kiss across her temple.

"Are you?" she whispered.

He smiled against her hair. "I am unbelievably ready for this." He lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on the emerald ring he'd put on her left ring finger less than two months ago. The ring was usually invisible to everyone, but she'd removed the charm and he delighted in seeing it on her hand.

"Let's go then, before they wake up." Ginny moved out of his loose embrace and pulled a folded piece of parchment out of her back pocket. She placed the note, addressed to the "Weasleys and Hermione" on the kitchen table and stealthily moved to the back door which she opened with a wave of her wand.

Harry paused on his way to follow her out onto the porch and looked back at the note lying in the middle of the table. "Do you think they'll ever forgive us for this?"

Ginny shrugged casually, trying to hide the fact that she'd been wondering the same thing. "Probably. Eventually." She pulled her hood up over her hair and stepped quietly out onto the porch.

"We could stay you know," he said. "We could do this the old fashioned way."

Ginny glared at him. "Not a chance, Potter. We've been over and over this. This is the best way."

Harry bit back a chuckle and stepped out onto the back porch behind her. "Fine, fine. I just hate to make your mum mad at us. She's going to think we deprived her."

"All the more reason to get going," Ginny retorted. "Besides, I'm sure you'll be able to sweet talk her when we get back."

Harry reached for her hand as they stepped off the porch and into the grass. Quietly and quickly they made their way to the edge of the Weasleys' property where the wards ended and apparition was safe again.

Harry and Ginny had been planning for this night for two weeks. It was the darkest time of the month and the blackest point of the night. They'd dressed carefully in dark clothing so they would blend in — they hadn't wanted to risk someone looking out of a bedroom window and seeing figures moving around the grounds. Ginny had suggested they just fly out of there, but Harry reminded her that Bill had set up the wards to repel brooms. So they were forced to walk.

Soon they were out of sight of the house and both Harry and Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. They maintained their silence however, not wanting the slight breeze to carry their voices back to the house. Absolute secrecy was of paramount importance. They didn't want anyone to know they were gone until the morning when it would be too late to stop them. Or find them.

It took twenty minutes to reach the edge of the extensive wards Bill had laid out. Ginny lifted her wand and pointed it at a particularly special tree root. She mumbled a spell under her breath and there was slight shimmer in the air that quickly disappeared as they passed through it. Harry walked a few more feet and stopped while Ginny reset the wards.

"You've got the coordinates memorized?" he asked, turning to Ginny.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, we've been over them a hundred times. I'll go first and wait for you."

"Right." Harry hesitated and then yanked her towards him by the shoulders. His lips met hers in a searing kiss that left both of them panting. He pulled away, and swallowed heavily. "Sorry, I just wanted to -"

He was cut off when Ginny grabbed his head and pulled it back to hers for another kiss. His hands fisted on the back of her woollen cloak while she ground against him, one hand tangled in the back of his hair, the other still gripping her wand.

"Damn, Ginny," he said, when she pulled away. "I can't wait to -"

"I know," she said, smiling at him. "Let's just get going." She stepped back and smiled at him bravely before turning on her heel and disappearing with a soft "pop."

Harry took a second to calm his breathing and concentrated on the apparition coordinates they'd agreed upon weeks ago. He turned on his heel and felt the usual squeezing sensation before appearing next to Ginny. It was the farthest either of them had ever Apparated, and he smiled sheepishly at Ginny as he patted down his body to make sure everything had come with him.

"You'd think we'd be used to this by now," he said to her in an undertone. They'd been Apparating solidly for weeks.

"I did the same thing," she confessed. "Look, I think we're supposed to go over here." She nudged him and pointed to a desk where a wizard was sleeping on a desk, his head propped up on his folded arms.

"Guess we won't have to put him to sleep," Harry said wryly. They'd decided beforehand their trip coordinates should remain completely secret. They were prepared to perform memory charms wherever necessary. They were Apparating internationally, and unfortunately each international Apparation checkpoint required a registering of wands. The new Ministry of Magic rule was designed to capture the few Death Eaters still at large, but all it really did was provide a rather large nuisance.

They had no intention of registering their wands. Harry had planned on hitting the checkpoint guards with sleeping spells, but as this guard was already asleep he pocketed his wand and nodded at Ginny who disappeared with another soft pop. Harry marvelled at how quiet her apparitions were getting before he followed her to the next set of coordinates.

Ginny shivered when she appeared in Britain's Apparation checkpoint in Siberia. It was icy cold and deserted. They'd chosen this route because it was the least travelled of wizarding apparition routes. Now she knew why most wizards chose the southern route through Asia. Harry appeared a moment later. This checkpoint was thankfully deserted, and they quickly Apparated to the next checkpoint in Japan. They hadn't wanted to appear at such a highly populous place, but it was the only option. Luckily it was still really early in the morning. A lone security guard barely looked up when she appeared, and she quickly hit him with a sleeping spell before he could see her face. Harry did a small memory charm on him when he arrived just to ensure the guard would have no memory of Ginny's arrival.

Ten minutes after they began their journey they arrived at their final destination: Jakarta, the capital of Indonesia in South East Asia. They'd chosen this area because the wizarding population was highly isolated, and they figured they could find what they needed without raising too much attention. They wanted to be anonymous, and both hoped that very few Indonesian wizards had heard of Harry Potter.

Ginny didn't realize how drained she felt until they'd snuck out of the Apparating checkpoint without being seen and stopped to look at the map Harry had brought him.

"Apparating this far, that quickly takes a lot out of you," he commented, when Ginny slumped against him in the alleyway beside the Apparation office.

"How come you're not exhausted?" she asked.

"I'm a more powerful wizard," he deadpanned. "Thought that was obvious."

Ginny mustered up enough energy to kick him in the shin. She ignored his protests and straightened back up. "How far away are we?" she asked, covering a yawn with her hand.

Harry folded the map and put it back in his pocket. "Several miles," he said. "But I think we should take a taxi or something. We're supposed to be Muggles."

"Fine," Ginny grumped. She unfastened her cloak and took out the suitcase Harry had shrunk earlier at the Burrow. It sprang back to original size when she nudged it with her foot, and she shoved the cloak inside before hefting the bag back up. Harry did the same before stepping out to the busy street and flagging down a taxi. It was early morning in Indonesia and the streets were full of busy commuters and shopkeepers opening their stores for the day.

The taxi driver kindly placed their luggage in the trunk of his old car without asking questions about where they'd come from. Once they were settled in the car, Harry handed the driver a slip of paper with the address of their destination on it, and he nodded happily before pulling out into early morning traffic.

The ride took thirty minutes, but Ginny barely noticed because she promptly fell asleep on Harry's shoulder as soon as the car began moving. Harry forced himself to stay awake and watched the scenery grow more beautiful and tropical as the taxi took them outside the city limits. When the driver slowed down to avoid a herd of goats crossing the road, Ginny awoke with a start and looked around.

"Are we there yet?" she asked sleepily.

"I think we're getting close," Harry answered. "I saw a sign a few minutes back." His estimation was closer than he thought and soon they pulled into a secluded and well-landscaped driveway that was quietly marked "Resort."

"Very good resort," their driver said in broken English. "Very private."

"That was the point," Harry said under his breath. The driver pulled to a stop in front a white stucco building surrounded by palm trees. Harry had made sure the hotel he and Ginny chose would be the most isolated they could find. It wasn't easy to research such Muggle things under Hermione's nose and not raise suspicions. He'd finally found this place after several clandestine trips to travel agencies in Muggle London. Simply titled "The Resort," it boasted intense security and high privacy.

Ginny was out of the car before the driver could get out of his own seat to unlatch the door. She waited while he unloaded their suitcases and Harry paid him. She noticed Harry hesitating after he put his wallet back in pocket, his fingers twitching over where she knew he'd secreted his wand. He was probably deciding whether or not to memory charm the guy. Ginny caught his eye and shook her head slightly. The driver was harmless and barely spoke English. The chances of him knowing who they were or remembering he'd dropped off a young English couple at this place were slim.

Harry reluctantly let his hand drop away from his pocket and bent down to pick up their suitcases. Ginny followed him into the building, barely able to stifle a yawn as they entered a spacious and airy lobby, one wall of which was a giant window that looked out onto the beach.

"Hmm...," Ginny sighed dreamily. "White sand and blue ocean — I could get used to this."

"We could buy a beach house if you like," Harry said absentmindedly. "When we get back to England."

Ginny rolled her eyes behind his back as he signed the name "James Evans" in his usual scrawl to the hotel register. Harry was always forgetting that while he was as rich as a goblin, she was as poor as a mouse. She couldn't just buy a beach house ,and she wasn't going to use his money to do so.

"Harry, I'm not going to take your money and…" Her voice trailed off when he just looked at her with one eyebrow raised.

"Oh," Ginny flushed. "Right. Sorry. Forgot."

"I trust you'll remember most of the time," he said mildly, turning back to the receptionist at the front desk. The petite woman with shiny black hair handed him a key and showed him on a map on the wall how to find the location of their room.

Their "room" was actually a bungalow directly on the beach. Harry had specifically asked for accommodations as far from the main building as possible. Ginny followed him back out of the lobby and down a boardwalk that twisted and turned until it ended in a narrow walkway to a small cottage.

Ginny took the key from Harry to open the door and they stepped into a room with whitewashed walls and teak flooring and ceilings. The living room looked out over the ocean and double glass doors led to a small deck. She paused for a moment, watching the waves crash on the solitary beach before following Harry into the bedroom. A large bed stood in the centre, and Ginny decided she sort of liked the simple decorating scheme of white linens and cushions against a darker wood. Unfortunately she was entirely too tired to enjoy it right now. They'd left England at 2 a.m. and then Apparated halfway around the world. She was exhausted and if Harry's droopy eyes were any indication, he was as well.

"What time is our appointment?" she asked while toeing off her shoes.

"6:30 this evening," came the reply. "They're staying open late just for us."

Ginny lifted her jumper over her head and unfastened her jeans before shimmying them down her legs and throwing them into a heap in the corner. Clad in only her underwear and t-shirt she walked over to the side of the bed, pulled back the white comforter and crawled inside.

"Good," she said wearily. "We've got a good eight hours to sleep then." She snuggled underneath the covers and laid her cheek against the cool, crisp cotton covering on the pillow. "Coming to bed?"

"In a minute." Harry walked into the adjoining loo where he quickly relieved himself and splashed some cool water on his face. He stripped his clothes off as he walked back into the bedroom and threw them over to join with Ginny's in the corner. Pulling back the covers on his side of the bed, he sighed in relief when his body finally rested on the mattress. Who knew Apparating that far, that quickly could wear a bloke out so much?

He turned onto his side and wrapped an arm around Ginny's waist, tugging her closer to him until she fit into the curvature of his body.

"Good night," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"Good night," he replied.

Harry laid his head next to Ginny's on the pillow and they slept.

While Harry and Ginny were sleeping at a private resort in Indonesia, Molly Weasley and the rest of her family were sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware that their youngest daughter and adopted son had snuck off during the night, leaving only a note behind to describe their actions.

It was only several hours after Harry and Ginny had left the Burrow that Molly woke up after a relatively dreamless sleep and began to prepare for the day. She showered and dressed quickly amazing herself at the energy she had these days. A good sleep did wonders for a body she decided, and Molly had slept peacefully for the past three weeks.

She woke Arthur up before she left the room and bustled downstairs to the kitchen where she grabbed her apron from the hook by the pantry and busied herself with breakfast. Molly didn't notice the note on the table until the oatmeal was halfway done, and she was setting the bowls on the table. Curious, she picked up the note and scanned it quickly.

The resounding scream woke up the entire household.

Thuds, door slams and shouting led to the Weasley family, sans Harry and Ginny, but including Hermione, running down the stairs like a herd of elephants. Bill and Arthur reached the kitchen first, wands drawn, their faces frantic. Fred and George landed behind them, their faces fierce. Ron and Hermione stayed on the steps with Charlie, all three of them gripping their wands. They were all in various stages of undress. Arthur had obviously gotten out of the shower and had just barely managed to throw on a dressing gown. Bill was bare-chested and wearing only a pair of trousers. The rest were still in their pyjamas.

"Molly," Arthur demanded. "What is it, what's wrong?" He crossed the room quickly to his wife who had slumped into a chair beside the table, her face frozen in shock.

"Molly?" he asked, in a worried tone. "What is it? What's going on? Why did you scream?"

"Ar-Ar-Arthur," his wife finally whispered, her voice trembling, her hands shaking. "They – they - they've _gone_."

"Who's gone Molly? Who?" Arthur sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She turned into his embrace with a wail, and the note she'd been gripping drifted back down to the table. Arthur wrapped both arms around her and motioned to Bill to pick up the note.

Bill pocketed his wand and stepped forward to retrieve the note from the table. He read it quickly, his face paling and sat down in the chair across from his mother. "This is a joke, right? They're just kidding us?"

"What does it say son?" Arthur urged. "Read it out loud."

Bill took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "It's um…from Harry and Ginny. They…they say they've…um…eloped."

Arthur's mouth dropped open in shock as he stared at his eldest son. Ron gave a strangled noise on the staircase while Hermione gave a soft gasp and covered her mouth with her hands. Fred pocketed his wand and walked over to read the note over his brother's shoulder.

"Blimey," he whistled through his teeth. "They've really done it then."

Molly lifted her head from her husband's shoulder and turned a tear-stained face towards him. "Did you know they were going to do this?" she hissed at him.

Fred backed away, his hands held up as if he could ward off his mother. "No, honestly. I had no idea…well, I had no idea they would do _this,_ but really -" he looked to George for help, scowling when his brother shook his head at him. "C'mon, mum, everyone knew they'd be together."

"But not like this," Molly sniffed and fumbled for a hanky in her pocket. "Not so young! Not eloping! Ginny's still got a year of school left. Why couldn't they just tell us they wanted to get married…we would have planned a wedding…oh, Arthur!" She buried her face back in her husband's shoulder while her family looked on helplessly.

"What else does the note say, Bill?" Charlie stepped all the way into the kitchen and pulled a seat out next to his brother.

Bill shrugged. "It says they didn't want to deal with the press and attention if they got married in England, and they didn't want to wait any longer." He held the note close to his face. "I think Ginny wrote this, her handwriting is atrocious. She says to not try and find them, that they've taken all the necessary precautions, and she's confident they won't be bothered or discovered. Expect them home in three weeks, they love us, they're sorry they had to keep it a secret, blah blah blah."

He tossed the note in the centre of the table, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. Charlie picked up the note, his smile matching Bill's.

"I can't believe they didn't tell us," Ron said dully, collapsing into a seat at the table.

"It makes sense though," Hermione said quietly. She faltered when all eyes turned towards her, but she plunged on bravely. "Can you imagine what the press would do if they learned Harry Potter was marrying Ginny Weasley? They'd be crawling all over this place. There wouldn't be a moment's peace. None of us would be able to leave the house. It would have driven them crazy. They would have wanted something more…private."

"But alone!" Molly cried. "No family around to even act as witnesses! Why would they want that?"

Hermione shrugged. "I expect they didn't really think of it like that. They just wanted to be married; I don't think they care about logistics."

She met Molly's eyes squarely, then shifted her gaze to Arthur's and then on to the rest of the family. "It's always been meant-to-be for them, you know," she said softly. "The rest of us never stood a chance. We couldn't have stopped them if we wanted to."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I wouldn't have wanted to stop it. I know they're young, but you've seen them together -- how could any of us deny them this? Harry's been fighting his whole life for her. And Ginny -- she needs him."

Her statement was met with silence, and she went willingly when Ron tugged her down to sit on his lap. Fred and George took the last remaining chairs and the family sat in a stunned quiet.

"Hermione's right. I…I guess they're old enough to make their own decisions," Arthur said finally. "In fact, they've been old enough for that for quite some time. I would rather Ginny choose Harry over anyone else." He tightened his grip on his wife. "I wish we'd been there to see it, but I suppose it's understandable. I could see how they felt about each other...even if I'm often blind about such things. It's hard for a father to admit his daughter is grown up, but I suspect the decision was taken out of my hands years ago."

Molly sniffed loudly, but didn't comment.

"Wow, Ginny's married," George said suddenly. "_Married_. As in, you know…married."

"Well, I think it's great," Charlie said suddenly. "I mean, he's proven that he loves her. What more could we ask for?"

Molly dabbed at her eyes and smiled tremulously. "You're right, Charlie. We know they love each other. Dumbledore said Harry wouldn't have been able to defeat Voldemort if they hadn't. We should be thankful Ginny has found such a nice young man. I just…I just wish they weren't so young…"

"I think they're both just really exhausted from everything," Hermione said softly. "It's only been two months since the end. They deserve a nice long vacation."

Bill let out a big breath and rubbed his eyes before saying, "So what happens now?"

Arthur let go of Molly and stood up. "We pretend nothing has changed. We go about our business and protect their privacy at all costs. Someone is eventually going to notice their absence, and this information is not to leave this room." He met each of their eyes. "Is that understood?"

There was a chorus of agreement and the family dispersed to begin the rest of their day. Arthur disappeared back upstairs presumably to finish his shower, followed closely by Bill and Charlie. Fred and George sprang up to fill their bowls with oatmeal while Molly remained seated at the table, her eyes vacant as she clutched the note Harry and Ginny had left behind.

Ron let his forehead rest against Hermione's back. "Do you think they'll be all right?" he asked in a low voice.

Hermione nodded. "I think with everything they've been through, being together is one of the few things they can hold onto. How could they not want to make that permanent, Ron? Voldemort's gone — it's their first time to really live in a long time. They deserve every bit of happiness they can get."

"They're so young," he said anxiously. "Ginny's only 17, Harry's 18…I can't even imagine…We've been through a lot too, Hermione, but I don't…you don't…expect that, do you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned in his lap to face him. "No, Ronald. Just because it's the right thing for them doesn't mean it's the right thing for us." She kissed him on the cheek. "We're fine. No rush, yeah?"

"Yeah," he smiled briefly at her. "Guess things will be a bit different when they get back."

She nodded and ran her hand through his hair. "It'll be fine," she said, reading his mind. "Harry will still need his best friend. He'll still need _you_."

Ron smiled and hugged her around the waist, hoping, and nearly positive, she was right.


	30. Chapter 30 Given

A/N: The vows Harry and Ginny speak are taken directly from Karen Marie Moning's Highlander series.

Chapter 30

Harry tugged nervously at his collar, resisting the urge to loosen his tie. He'd rejected the muggle bow tie the London shopkeeper had originally offered to go with the black suit, opting instead for a white vest and regular white silk tie, but it wasn't much more comfortable. He was too nervous to be comfortable.

It wasn't that he was nervous about marrying Ginny per se. It was just…marriage was a big step. And while he knew this was the right thing, _knew_ that Ginny was his other half, that she was the only one he would _ever_ want to marry, the finality of the step they were about to take was catching up with him.

Not to mention the fact that they'd snuck off to elope, leaving only a brief note behind. He'd deprived Molly Weasley of the chance to plan her only daughter's wedding and hadn't even asked Ginny's father for her hand. Her six older brothers were probably plotting some sort of revenge this very moment.

Harry paced the living room of their beach bungalow with these thoughts swirling in head. He was just about to knock on the bedroom door and tell Ginny that perhaps they should find a fire and Floo her family when the door opened and she stepped out.

All doubts and questions left Harry's mind when he saw her. He had a vague sense of déjà vu, his mind casting back to being dumbstruck by her in another dress at the Yule Ball his fourth year, but this was beyond anything he'd imagined. This was his _bride_. In less than hour she was going to be his wife.

_Wife_. His. Forever.

He'd never been more turned on in his life.

Ginny smoothed down the front of the white silk. The simple dress was strapless and fell just below her knees in full skirt. The rucked bodice gave the appearance of being wrapped tightly around her, but she was actually quite comfortable. It was the only dress she'd tried on and once she'd found it, she knew she didn't need to keep looking. She'd pinned her hair up and stuck a yellow flower she'd found on a bush outside behind one ear.

The look on Harry's face said she'd achieved the look she was going for.

"So, um…that bum knee of yours is looking pretty good," Harry croaked.

Ginny felt her mouth curve into a smile.

"The other knee is looking pretty good too," he finished.

"Thanks," she said dryly. "I was going for good-looking knees."

Harry flushed and groaned. "Sorry, it's just…damn, Ginny. You've got me all tongue-tied."

"Good," she said. "'Cause me in a wedding dress is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Harry had no response for that so he just grinned at her and held out his hand for her to take. "You look beautiful," he said sincerely when she drew closer to him. He bent his head to her neck and brushed his lips over her throat, pleased when he felt her shudder.

"You look very handsome," Ginny murmured. She brushed imaginary lint of his shoulders as an excuse to touch him, her fingers curling into the shoulder pads underneath his jacket as he began nibbling on the tendon in her neck.

"H - Harry," she breathed, her head falling back to allow him better access, "we should get going. We have to be there in a few minutes."

He lifted his head from her neck and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was suddenly overcome with the depth of his love for her. She was a part of him. He was so grateful they'd made it to this point — he couldn't even fathom where he'd be right now if Voldemort had-

"Quit that," Ginny said sharply.

"Quit what?" Harry schooled his features into a mask of innocence.

"You're brooding again," she said, shaking his arm for emphasis. "Stop it. We're supposed to be happy. We've survived and we're here." She stepped back and held out her hand. "Now c'mon, it's time to begin the rest of our lives."

Harry laughed and allowed her to lead him towards the front door. "Never thought I'd see the day when Ginny Weasley was the positive attitude in the room."

"It's amazing how great you feel when your boyfriend kills an evil wizard," she replied.

"It wasn't just me," he admonished her. "You know that."

"Whatever," she said dismissively. "Let's get this over with. How are we getting there?" 

"Oh." He stopped and patted down his pockets. "I've got the Apparition coordinates in here somewhere." He pulled a slip of paper out of his jacket pocket and memorized it quickly before showing it to her.

"Where is it?" she asked, trying to commit the coordinates to memory.

"It's supposed to be the front office of the Indonesian Wizarding Ministry in downtown Jakarta." He nodded at her. "You go ahead, I'll follow."

She grinned at him quickly before disappearing with a soft pop. Seconds later, Harry appeared beside her in a lobby that looked remarkably similar to England's Ministry of Magic.

"Do all Ministries of Magic look this way?" he asked Ginny out of the corner of his mouth.

"I think it must be a rule," she answered.

The place was deserted except for the light from a wall of Floo fireplaces along one wall and a well-lit hallway that Ginny assumed led to offices. Harry laced his fingers with hers and they walked over to consult the directory on the wall.

It didn't take long to locate the licensing office. They both hesitated outside the door, their hands clasped tightly together.

"It's amazing how just opening a door will change your whole life," Ginny said. She met his questioning eyes. "I'm not scared you know," she said. "Just…reflective."

"You can reflect later," he said. "Let's just get this over with."

"That's the sentiment every girl dreams of on her wedding day," she muttered, but she stepped through the threshold when he opened the door and stopped at the sight of a beaming, elderly wizard who had obviously been expecting them. He had a long white beard to rival Dumbledore's, and was wearing blue robes of the most garish shade that, combined with his diminutive size, made him look rather like a fairy.

"Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley, I presume?" He had a surprisingly deep voice for such a small person and he spoke in slow, measured tones that rendered his local accent almost unrecognizable.

"Yes." Harry shook the man's hand. "Are you Mr. Kalla?"

He nodded. "You may call me Jusef. It is an honour to meet you both."

Ginny shot a questioning look at Harry and then looked back at Jusef. "You know who we are?"

Jusef shrugged. "What wizard alive does not know?"

"But, you've kept our appointment here a secret?"

Harry squeezed her hand. "It was the only way I could get him to agree to a private, after-hours meeting Ginny. Don't worry — he's signed a contract. He couldn't talk about it even if he wanted to."

She lifted one eyebrow at him. "A contract ala Hermione?"

He grinned back at her in response. "Of course."

"I will keep your secret, Miss Weasley," Jusef spoke up. "Do not fear your privacy."

Ginny nodded. "Right then, can we get started?"

Jusef beamed at them, picked up a book from a nearby desk and motioned for them to follow him out of the room. "I thought, since you were forced to be so private for the ceremony, you might enjoy having it in our gardens. The entire building is built around a courtyard, which is quite lovely this time of year, and a bit more conducive to romance than an office."

"Thank you," Ginny murmured as he led them down the hallway and down a series of passages that seemed endless. Eventually they arrived at the centre of the building, and Jusef opened up the glass walls with a wave of his wand. He settled them happily in front of a large bush with tropical flowers Ginny had never seen before and opened his book with a contented sigh.

"A traditional wizarding ceremony always brings out the romantic in me," he told them. "Are you ready to begin?"

"Wait," Harry said suddenly. "I almost forgot." He fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment that he handed to Jusef. "We want these to be our vows."

Jusef scanned the parchment and quickly paled. "You realize what these are?"

"Yes, of course," Harry said. He and Ginny had researched for the right vows for weeks. When she had found these ancient vows in a book in the Hogwarts library, they'd known immediately they had found what they were looking for.

"These - these are ancient soul-binding vows," Jusef said shakily. "They have not been used in many, many years. You realize that if you use these, they will bind your souls through eternity."

"We know that," Harry said impatiently. "We've done all the research and it's what we want. Are you afraid to use them?"

"No," Jusef answered uncertainly.

"Then what's the problem?" Harry looked back at Ginny who seemed amused at the look of shock on Jusef's face. They knew the dangers of binding their souls together for eternity, but he just didn't care. Harry knew this was the right thing to do, he could already feel his soul reaching for hers.

Ginny's eyes met Harry's, and the sudden feeling that she was perched on the edge of a precipice overwhelmed her. Normally, she would have thought once, twice, three times before jumping off, but right now she felt like jumping off without a parachute. It scared her, how much she wanted to bind herself to this man.

"I'm ready," she said softly. Harry held out both hands for her to take, his eyes telling her that he was feeling the seriousness of the moment. They didn't need a fancy wedding with all their friends and family — they just needed this moment.

At Harry's nod, Jusef began reading from the book in his hands. Ginny scarcely heard him focused as she was on Harry. It was only when the ministry wizard began the vow ceremony that she was startled into paying attention.

"Please touch the tips of your wands together," Jusef intoned.

When their wand tips rested against one another, Jusef turned to Harry. "Harry Potter, will you take this woman to be your wife? Will you swear by your magic to be her protector so that she will always be safe and will never know the harm or evil of the world? To provide for her so that she will want for nothing, to keep her in home and happiness, forsaking all others so that she will be always confident in her choice of a mate?"

Harry tore his gaze away from Ginny long enough to stare incredulously at the wizard. "Um…no," he said frankly. "If I promised that for the rest of our lives she'd probably kick my arse."

The look of shock on Jusef's face would have been comical under normal circumstances. "B-b-but, you have to, it's part of the ceremony," the small man stuttered. "You s-said you wanted to get married!"

"I do," Harry said. "But do I have to promise _those_ things? They're sort of…"

"Outdated?" Ginny supplied. She bit back a laugh at the look on Harry's face. It was halfway between distaste and a hint of fear.

"Well, what do you want to promise?" Jusef seemed genuinely confused.

"Well…um…." Harry racked his brain for the words he wanted to say. He wasn't the best with flowery speeches. He turned back to face Ginny, a determined look on his face.

"Ginny," he said forcefully, "I swear by my magic to love you until the day I die. I promise to let you be your own person, to not stifle you or shelter you, to let you fight beside me and for me when I can't fight for myself. In return I will fight with you and for you; I won't let you give up. I will take care of you, and I'll let you take care of me. Everything we have been through was worth it to get to this point. Because it means that for the rest of our lives, I can kick your arse in Quidditch."

If Jusef looked any more shocked, Harry thought he might pass out. But the smile on Ginny's face and the sparkle in her eyes told him he'd said the right thing.

Jusef swallowed heavily and straightened his shoulders before turning to Ginny. He seemed relieved that Harry was finished speaking.

"Ginny Weasley," Jusef began, "do you swear by your magic to take this man as your husband? To keep his home and heart happy, to fill his life with love? To be fruitful and multiply? To love and cherish him, forsaking all others and putting his happiness before your very own?"

If Harry hadn't been holding his wand with one hand and Ginny's with the other he would have clapped his hand over the wizard's mouth. He cringed when her eyes flashed; he could almost feel the cold chill of her stare as she faced the ministry wizard.

"No, I don't think so," she said icily. "When was that book written anyway?"

"It's the traditional wizard marriage ceremony used in Indonesia," Jusef said stiffly. "It's been used and cherished for generations."

"Well, I'm not swearing by my magic to do any of that," she informed him. She turned back to Harry and took a deep breath.

"Harry, you have saved my life more times than I care to count. You've saved the lives of my family, my friends and well…the entire world really, but even if you hadn't, I would still love you. I swear by magic to love you until the last breath leaves my body. I promise to never make promises I can't keep, but I'll stand with you and for you. I'll do my best to fill your life with laughter and love. I promise to hex you when you're acting like a prat, and I expect you to tell me when I'm being a complete arse. And I swear by my magic that I will shag you as senseless as I possibly can for the rest of my life."

Her declaration was met with a shocked silence from Jusef and a wide grin from Harry.

"That definitely works for me," he murmured, his gaze moving to her lips. The ceremony suddenly seemed ridiculously long.

Jusef gave a great sigh and closed the book, resigning himself to this unorthodox couple in front of him.

"Do you have the rings?"

Harry produced two simple gold bands and gave them to Jusef.

His face solemn, Jusef handed Ginny's ring to Harry and said, "Place this ring on her finger as a symbol of your never ending love and fidelity, reciting the binding vows you have chosen."

With a remarkably steady hand, Harry took the small circlet of gold and held it on Ginny's ring finger. He recited the ancient words he'd memorized:

_If aught must be lost, 'twill be my honour for yours._

_If one must be forsaken, 'twill be my soul for yours._

_Should death come anon, 'twill be my life for yours._

_I am Given._

The words were old fashioned, but they had been powerful enough when they were written centuries ago. Even though they hadn't been used in over a hundred years, Harry felt the chill of the binding power run down his spine as he pledged his heart to Ginny's forever. Even if she never said the words back, he was soul-bound to her, destined to be reborn only loving her over and over again. He would follow her into death and his soul would spend eternity loving her.

Ginny watched the emotion swimming in Harry's eyes and took her ring from Jusef without hesitation. She repeated the binding vow back to him, her words clear and precise, and her eyes never leaving his.

The moment the vow was said, the final pledge echoed in the courtyard; emotion crashed over her so intensely, her knees buckled. Love for him filled every ounce of her being. It was the most incredible sensation she'd ever felt. They were inextricably linked now, for all eternity.

Jusef pulled out his own wand, touched it to the tips of Harry and Ginny's wands and said the wizarding binding spell. A gold light shot out of the point at which the three wands met and swirled around Harry and Ginny, wrapping around them until Harry could feel the magic binding their hearts, minds and souls together. It lasted only a minute but for that one bright moment, Harry could feel every part of Ginny as if they were one person in two bodies. Their souls intertwined, fully bound.

Harry returned to himself when the light disappeared, but he would forever carry the memory of the way Ginny's soul had felt. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever experienced, and he could tell by the tears in Ginny's eyes that it had been the same for her.

"W-wow," Jusef stammered. "That was…that was quite something." He cleared his throat and pocketed his wand. "Then by the magic invested in me, I declare you to be husband and wife." He beamed at Harry. "You may kiss the bride."

Harry let his wand arm fall down to his side and pulled Ginny towards him with the other. The kiss was wet, long, deep and entirely inappropriate, but he simply could not help himself. When he pulled back, Ginny's eyes fluttered and she smiled softly at him.

"Let's get out of here. I'd like to start on some of my vows now."

"Right away, Mrs. Potter," Harry grinned at her.

It took ten minutes to sign the necessary paperwork, obliviate Jusef's memory -- despite the contract he'd signed -- and erase any sign that Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley had made an appointment to get married that evening. They filed their license themselves, after Harry had put Jusef to sleep and placed several mild repelling charms on the document so that even those who went looking for it would find it difficult to locate.

They Apparated back to the front door of their bungalow, and before Ginny could say a word of protest, Harry had swept her up in her arms and carried her inside.

"What are you doing?"

"This is how the muggles do it," he informed her. "It's tradition for the groom to carry the bride across the threshold after they're married."

"Wow, Harry," Ginny's voice was filled with awe, "can you believe we're married? I'm your wife. I mean…your _wife_."

He set her on her feet then and mock growled as he yanked her soft form against him. "It sounds even better when you say it."

He bent to trail kisses along her throat and whispered reverently, "Ginny Potter," as he pressed his lips to the skin.

"People are going to think we're crazy when they find out," she murmured, her head falling back to give him better access.

"Meh." His hands went to the zipper at her side and slowly lowered it, the rasp of metal on metal filling the otherwise quiet room. The dress parted and slid down her body to collapse in a heap at her feet. Harry wanted to touch, to feel her silky skin with his hands, but he forced himself to step back and look at her. He wanted to remember her always like this; her eyes dark with a growing passion, her skin flushed and covered with the red marks he'd just put on her.

He groaned when he saw what she was wearing — tight, white lace that did nothing to cover the delectable flesh underneath.

"Is that for me?" he asked hoarsely.

Ginny nodded, a seductive smirk crossing her face. "Every girl wants fancy lingerie on her wedding night. Do you like it?"

Harry knew Ginny better than she knew herself, and he could hear the vulnerability she was hiding behind that smirk. She wanted to please him.

He stepped close again and grabbed her about the waist, hoisting her up until she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He filled his hands with buttocks that were hardly contained by a scrap of white silk and lace and carried her towards the bed, tossing her in the centre as he stepped back to remove his tie, vest and shirt. He toed his shoes and socks off but left the pants on; he wanted her to remove those.

He crawled up over her, his hips cradled between her thighs and groaned when his bare chest came into contact with the soft lace of her outfit.

"I more than like it, Fury," he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her collarbone.

He slanted his mouth over hers then, and Ginny whimpered — a most un-Ginny-like sound. The kiss deepened and Harry swept his tongue into her mouth, one hand going to her hips to hold them still, another tangling in her hair.

Ginny felt herself surrender as she gave every bit of herself to her new husband. After Tom Riddle had tried to take her soul when she was just eleven, she'd swore she'd never give it away again, but she was fooling herself if she thought she hadn't given it to Harry years ago. She felt the power of the binding vows they'd taken swirl through her veins and into her heart until her mind was chanting, _"I am Given, I am Given…"_ even while her body was lost in pleasure.

Her fingers curled into his shoulders, the nails making half-moon impressions in his skin and she hissed when his mouth travelled over jaw, down her throat and lower. When he closed his teeth over her, her body arched and her soul opened up even further until there was nothing left to give, nothing left with which to bargain, nothing left to hold back for herself. Harry must have sensed her total surrender because he reached up with one trembling hand and wiped the tears from her face, even while his mouth travelled her skin.

"Mine," he groaned into her skin. "You're mine."

"Yours," she agreed breathlessly. "Always."

Harry wasn't sure what other people did on their honeymoons, but he was pretty sure he and Ginny were the only ones who knew how to do it right. It'd been two weeks since they'd arrived in Indonesia and they'd barely left their bungalow or private beach since. Food was delivered to their door and a maid came to clean the place every morning while they were swimming in the ocean. There was no need or desire to socialize with the other guests, and they certainly didn't fancy sightseeing on the island only to have someone recognize them.

Ginny looked like a sun-kissed goddess by now. Her skin, usually so fair, was a glowing apricot. Her freckles were multiplying at a rapid rate and Harry was hard-pressed to kiss and count them all.

Not that he wasn't giving the effort his very best, he thought with a smirk.

He lay back with a contented sigh on his beach lounge chair and watched his wife enter the ocean. He wondered what she would do when it was time to go back to England and put on some decent clothes. Ginny wore bikinis almost exclusively now — they'd been forced to charm on disguises and buy her several more on one of their rare trips into town for supplies.

Harry grabbed his nearby wand and reapplied the sunblocking charm to his exposed skin; he'd learned to reapply the charm religiously their first day on the beach when his chest and shoulders had gotten red as a tomato. He'd barely been able to make love to Ginny that night and although she informed him exasperatedly that they didn't have to shag every night, he'd been determined.

Ginny soon finished her swim and Harry set aside the book he'd been reading as she approached. She had a familiar look in her eye, and he meant to take full advantage. She walked towards him looking like some sort of mermaid, a goddess of the sea with her long red hair, now streaked with gold from the sun, dripping wet and falling over her shoulders and down her back. She stood over him, and Harry stretched out his legs as she slowly lowered herself to straddle his lap. He didn't care that she was wet from the ocean; her silky wet hair curtained his face as she lowered her cold lips to his. She smelled like the sea and tasted like salt.

He warmed her lips thoroughly, his tongue gliding over hers and his hands sliding over her slippery skin. She pulled back and as he untied the flimsy strings holding her bikini together, she whispered, "Ginny Potter loves Harry Potter."

Ginny scowled as she looked around the bedroom she and Harry had called home for the past three weeks. She didn't want to pack, she didn't feel like packing, and she was irritated with Harry for taking a walk on the beach while she stayed behind to gather the things they'd strewn throughout their tiny beach bungalow.

The fact that she'd insisted he take the walk while she packed for both of them escaped her notice. It'd been a stupid decision anyway.

With a glum sigh, she waved her wand and muttered the packing charm on a pile of clothing the resort had just freshly laundered for them. She wondered how long it would take before the smell of the ocean and suntan lotion left their clothes after they went back to England. She would miss it.

"Ginny?" Harry appeared at the patio door that led to the beach. "Come outside and watch the sunset."

All too glad to get out of the house, Ginny grabbed a pair of soft cotton pants and a cotton jumper, throwing them over her swimsuit. The beach got rather chilly at night.

She and Harry often sat on the sand to watch the sunset and tonight would be the last time they would get to do so. Harry had promised her they would come back, but Ginny knew that life often got in the way of such things.

They settled on the sand, Ginny between Harry's bent legs, her back against his chest. He sighed and nuzzled her hair.

"We've got to make some decisions."

Ginny stifled the urge to whine, instead she quipped, "Should I get a quill and parchment?"

"Maybe." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind and rested his chin on the top of her head. "I think we should be prepared for some anger from your family."

She agreed completely. Her mother alone would be a mighty force to be reckoned with, and Ginny didn't even want to think about what her six brothers were going to say about their baby sister getting married the moment she turned seventeen.

Sometimes she couldn't believe it herself. But then she and Harry would lie in bed late at night and discuss their future and she would get so excited about it she couldn't wait to start it with him. She never would have dreamed she'd get married so young; she hadn't even been sure she was the marrying kind, but when Harry had asked her that second time, she knew she could no longer deny what her heart wanted.

"They'll get over it," she finally said, somewhat flippantly. "S'not like they can separate us. And I am of age. There's little they can do, Harry."

"I don't want them mad at me," he grimaced. "They're the only family I've ever had, Ginny."

"Then they'll love you, just as they love me," she told him softly. "They might be mad at us, but they'll forgive us and keep on loving us. That's what families do."

She felt him nod, but knew he wasn't convinced. Her heart broke for the life he'd lived with those bloody Dursleys; they had never shown him what a true family was like, she wasn't even sure they knew themselves.

"They're going to want to know how you're going to finish school," he said abruptly. "What are we going to tell them?"

"I don't want to go back," she said instantly. "I couldn't take a whole year away from you."

"Me either, Fury," he hugged her tighter. "But you've got to take your NEWTs at least. And I know you're smart, but do you really think you can pass them right now?"

"No," she conceded. "We'll have to get a tutor."

"Okay," he said firmly. "Then it's decided. We'll find you a tutor and you'll take the NEWTs. Now, when are we going to tell them we're moving out?"

She shrugged. "I don't expect they'll think we're going to live with them now. We'll just tell them we've rented a flat for a few months while we're looking for a house."

Ginny and Harry had rented the flat in downtown Muggle London in secret a few weeks before they'd eloped. Both of them decided they didn't want to stay there long — they preferred a place that was more private, perhaps in the country, but had decided to wait until they got back from the honeymoon to seriously look for something larger. It was hard enough keeping the flat shopping a secret.

"We'll stay a few nights at the Burrow," she decided. "While we move our stuff to the flat. If we ask Mum to help us find a house maybe it will distract her."

"Things are going to be so different when we get back," he murmured, his eyes fastened on the setting sun.

"At least we won't have to worry about my parents grilling us about how we're going to support ourselves," she sighed. "Damn smart of me to marry a rich bloke."

He chuckled. "Yeah, because it was _your_ idea."

"I said yes, didn't I? Eventually."

He snorted. "Under duress."

"I would have said yes anyway," she said without hesitation. "I told you that."

"I know." She felt his kisses run down the side of her face. "But I like hearing it."

"Arrogant prat."

The playful banter continued as the sun disappeared past the horizon. The past three weeks had been a new experience in so many ways for Harry and Ginny; they'd never been together without the threat of Voldemort hanging over them, tainting everything. It was good — being able to sleep together without the nightmares and finding other topics of conversation besides Death Eaters and Dementors.

Not that there weren't some nightmares. But the really bad ones had faded away over the summer, and Ginny had found that a normal nightmare was a lot easier to handle than a nightmare where Tom Riddle broke into one's dreams. For Harry, the nightmare ended as soon as he woke up and saw Ginny sleeping peacefully next to him. It was a tremendous relief to wake up and see her there. It almost made the nightmares worth having.

"I wish we didn't have to go." Ginny finally gave into the temptation to whine. "I love it here. Everything is just going to be complicated again when we return."

"We _could_ stay here, you know. We don't have to go back."

Ginny considered the suggestion seriously. Never go back to England? How often would she see her family? She'd miss the Burrow and her brothers and being a part of something that she'd helped to save. Her mother and father's face appeared in her mind; she saw the Burrow and her brothers and Hermione and Professor Dumbledore. If they stayed here, they would all keep in touch, but she wouldn't be a part of their lives.

"No," she said, this time with conviction. "I want to go back. I couldn't stand being separated, even if they all drive me crazy sometimes."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, because although I love it here, what makes it special is that it's different. If we lived here, it wouldn't be special anymore. Besides, I'm anxious to start the rest of our lives, Gin. While we're here, it's just on hold."

Ginny twisted her head and looked up at him. "That's a very good point, Harry."

He smiled down at her. "I do make them occasionally."

She stretched up and kissed him. "I love you."

"I know," he kissed her back.

Ginny turned back to watch the last of the day's sun fade away. It'd been a lovely honeymoon, but Harry was right; it was time to go home.

Molly Weasley woke up earlier than her usual time and lay in bed a few minutes before giving up sleep as a lost cause and heading off to take her shower. It was Saturday, and she decided to let Arthur and the kids have a lie-in. Everyone was still staying at the Burrow, despite the fact that they had the rest of their lives to begin. Most of them were waiting for Harry and Ginny to return and for the past few days, the house had a sense of anticipation hanging over it.

Today marked the end of the three weeks Harry and Ginny said they would be gone, but Molly had no idea if they actually meant to return today. They'd only sent one short letter that said they were fine, happy and not to worry. The note had not even been signed, but Arthur had convinced her it was because they didn't want to risk the letter being intercepted.

She dressed for the day and bustled downstairs to begin breakfast. Two hours later, the smell of muffins baking and bacon frying had dragged even Ron out of bed, and the Weasley family ate a peaceful and quiet supper in the Burrow's kitchen.

Molly was trying not to listen for the soft sound of dual apparitions, but every little sound was carefully examined before being dismissed. The whole family froze when they heard the clatter of feet on the back porch and two heavy thuds that might have been suitcases hitting the floor. Everyone exchanged glances, but no one moved, afraid to hope their daughter/sister/friend and new son-in-law/brother-in-law/friend had returned.

"Fury? Did you pack the…oh, here it is." Harry's voice was heard outside, and a bright smile spread across Hermione's face.

The back door soon opened, and a small hand with a very visible emerald and gold band on its ring finger stuck in the tip of Harry's Firebolt with a large white handkerchief tied around the edge and waved it vigorously.

"We surrender," Ginny's voice called. "Don't attack." She stuck her head around the door frame and grinned when she saw her entire family and Hermione sitting around the breakfast table.

"Anything left? We're starving."

"Ginny!" Molly gasped and then jumped up to hug her daughter. The whole family erupted in pandemonium as they pulled a sheepish Harry and Ginny inside. Harry got clapped on the back and threatened at the same time by most of Ginny's brothers. He gratefully accepted a huge hug from Ron.

"Guess we're brothers now, mate," he said to Harry in an undertone. "But you couldn't have said anything? Bit of a shock."

"Sorry," Harry said, for what seemed like the millionth time. "I wanted to tell you, Ron. Really."

"It's okay," he assured him. "I think I get it."

Harry smiled gratefully then and hugged Ron again, thankful for his forgiveness. Of all the Weasleys, Harry had worried most about Ron's reaction. A part of Harry was sad that Ron hadn't been able to stand up as his best man, but he knew that eloping was the best way to do things.

"Okay, okay!" Mr. Weasley eventually whistled for silence and the family settled down, most of them sitting back down in their chairs. Harry reached out and grabbed Ginny's hand, certain that it was all about to hit the ceiling. They'd been welcomed because they'd been missed, but what would happen now?

"Harry, Ginny," Mr. Weasley fixed them with a stern glance. "I'm not sure we completely understand why you had to keep your engagement a secret from your family. We love you both, and we would have been - we ARE happy for you. But we understand your need for privacy. Merlin knows what the press would have done with such knowledge. I, for one," he shot a look at Molly here, "also completely understand your desire to elope and not have a large wedding; but please understand that we're your family and we're sad that we couldn't be part of your day."

"We're sorry," Harry said earnestly. "But it was something we had to do alone. I don't know how else to explain it."

"We needed a break," Ginny said plainly. "And we needed to be married. Those were most important things at the time."

"But we are sorry if we hurt you," Harry added.

Mr. Weasley took a deep breath and smiled gently at them. "Welcome to the family anyway, Harry; although you've been a part of it long before this."

"Thanks." Harry swallowed thickly.

Molly, who had not let go of her daughter this whole time, turned to face her, both hands on her shoulders. "Even though I was deprived of planning my only daughter's wedding," she sniffed ominously, "all that matters it that you are happy." She looked into her daughter's eyes searchingly.

"And I can see that you are," she said softly. "You're practically glowing, both of you," she reached out a hand to Harry and he took it. "I haven't seen this much," she visibly struggled for the right word, "_contentment_ in you, Ginny, in a long time." She looked at Harry. "And I've never seen it in you. You are good for each other, I think."

"We're sickeningly happy, Mum," Ginny told her. "I promise."

"Then that's all that matters." Her mum smiled and hugged both of them at the same time. "Welcome home, dears."


	31. Chapter 31 Home

Chapter 31

"I don't like it," Ginny announced, looking around an empty living room.

"What's wrong with this one?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.

She waved her hand airily. "It's just not right, Harry. It doesn't feel right. It doesn't have enough character."

"Character." Harry no idea what the bloody hell she was talking about. How was a house supposed to have "character?" It was a house.

They'd been looking at houses for two months, and Ginny had found something wrong with each one. Harry was ready to select a house himself, tie her to a chair and move her bodily to something…anything really…as long as it had four walls and a roof. In his opinion, she was being entirely unreasonable. They had seen some really nice houses.

"Yes, character,' she repeated, glaring at him. "I can't live here."

"Well, what a surprise," Harry said in fake disbelief. "And you're usually so agreeable about these things."

"Save the sarcasm, Potter," Ginny snapped back. The never-ending search for a house was getting to her as well.

"Sarcasm is the only thing that's getting me through this nightmare, Weasley," he spat. "We've been through three house agents and looked at thirty-two houses. Let's just stay in our tiny flat forever. I'm through with this shite."

"The perfect house is out there somewhere," she argued. "We just have to keep looking."

Harry groaned in frustration and ran an agitated hand through his hair. He considered banging his head against the nearby built-in bookcases. "Where do you expect us to keep looking, Fury? We've looked everywhere."

"It's out there. I can feel it."

Harry threw up in his hands and stomped out of the room. He needed some fresh air.

Five minutes later, he was back. "Maybe it would help if I knew what it is that you want," he said, noticeably calmer. "I don't understand how a house is supposed to have character."

Ginny looked at him through narrowed eyes. He may have gone outside to calm down, but she'd been working herself up into a fit the entire time. Harry was being unreasonable. One didn't accept just anything these stupid agents threw at them; this was a house they were probably going to live in the rest of their bloody lives — it had to be perfect.

"I don't know how to explain it to you any better than I already have," she said harshly. "Maybe if you listened once in awhile instead of being so grumpy -"

"Grumpy!? That's harsh coming from you!" he yelled. "Every time you walk into a bloody house you start criticizing it. You don't give anything a chance!"

"That is not true," she shouted hotly. "I -

"Dears, there's a lovely yard out back and a wonderful little room right next to the master that's perfect for a nursery…" Mrs. Weasley's voice trailed off as she entered the room and saw her daughter and son-in-law standing in the centre of the room with angry faces.

"Oh…you don't like it then, Ginny?"

"See!" Harry pointed at his mother-in-law triumphantly. "Even she knows how unreasonable you're being! She automatically knew YOU were the one who didn't like it! You don't like anything!"

Ginny drew herself up and glared at him. "I liked you until we started this whole thing," she pointed out fiercely. "But now I'm seriously questioning my judgment!"

She pulled out her wand. "I'm going back to the flat. Sorry, mum." She nodded at her mother and shot another glare at Harry before Apparating away with a soft pop.

"Aargghh!" Harry ran a hand over his face. He felt like punching something. He took a few calming breaths and looked over at Molly.

"Sorry, mum."

"It's quite all right, dear," she insisted. "Married people fight, it's just part of life. I'd be worried if you and Ginny didn't fight."

He gave a hollow laugh. "You don't have to worry about that. Ginny and I've been fighting for years."

"People who love each other deeply have the most intense fights," Molly said knowingly.

"Great," he said glumly. "We're good to go, then."

The truth was, he and Ginny hadn't fought in months. Not since he'd had to convince her to marry him; and he didn't really consider that much of an argument. He rubbed the achy spot in his chest — they were out of practice.

"I just wish she'd tell me what she wants," he confessed. "We've looked a ton of houses and none of them have been good enough for her. I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken."

She laid a soothing hand on his arm. "I doubt she knows herself, dear."

"But how can that be? This house, and about twenty others, have all had the requirements we asked for. But she wants 'character'; what does that mean?"

His mother-in-law looked thoughtful. "Well, I'm not sure what it means to Ginny, but to me a house with character is like…well…the Burrow, I suppose."

He frowned at her. "The Burrow?" 

"Put yourself in her shoes," she said, her tone reasonable. "If you were Ginny and you'd grown up in the Burrow with all its crazy construction and twists and turns…why, any other house might seem plain in comparison. Even if it is a bit shabby."

"So, she wants a house like the Burrow?"

Molly shrugged, looking much like her daughter. "It's just a guess. But all these houses you've been looking at — they're fancy and new and they feel sterile. The Burrow is old and rundown, but full of love and laughter. That's quite a contrast."

"Hmmm…" Harry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Why didn't she just tell me this?"

Molly smiled at him and hooked her arm through his elbow to lead him from the house. "She probably doesn't realize it — she just knows she'll recognize the house when she sees it." 

"Bloody difficult," he grumped as they stepped onto the front porch

"Nothing worth having is ever easy." Molly kissed him goodbye on the cheek. "Go home to your wife and make up. You'll feel better."

She Apparated away and Harry stood on the porch a bit longer, gathering his thoughts. When he finally Apparated from the house, he didn't go straight home — he paid a visit to their house agent instead.

A week later, Harry took Ginny on a side-along Apparation with him to the coordinates their wizarding real estate agent had given them. It was the first house they'd looked at since the fight at the last one. Ginny had privately given up of ever finding one and was considering asking Harry if they could just build one. He'd insisted she come along to look at this one, and she'd felt obliged after he explained the trouble their agent had gone through to find the listing.

They appeared on a cliff overlooking the coast. Ginny was impressed with both the view and Harry's pinpoint Apparation accuracy.

"Where are we?" she asked curiously. She walked to the edge of the cliffs, pleased to see an iron railing protecting the edge and looked down. Waves crashed lazily against the rocks below, and she could just make out a sandy path that wound down to the rocky shore.

"Somewhere on the east coast," he said. "C'mon."

He grabbed her hand and they walked up a slight hill edged by the cliffs on one side and trees on the other. When the house came into view, Ginny stopped, impressed in spite of herself.

A large, ramshackle house with a front turret faced the cliff's edge that wound around the coastline. The house was by far the largest they'd seen so far. It had probably once been painted white with green shutters but the paint had mostly peeled off, and as Ginny approached it she could see that several of the windows had been broken.

She was silent as they mounted the steps and stepped gingerly across the loose boards of the large front porch. Surprisingly the door still had a sturdy lock and Harry produced the key out of his pocket. He stepped back to let her enter, and she moved into a large front entry that had a large great room on one side, a sweeping staircase to the second floor and what looked like it had once been a library on the right.

Harry let her explore the house by herself and as she walked through the rooms, she took note of the wood floors, the many fireplaces and the size of the bedrooms. The floors needed stripped and polishing, the wallpaper and paint were peeling, the muggle electricity and plumbing didn't work and the kitchen would need to be completely redone.

She loved it.

She joined Harry in the great room that ran the entire width of the house and stood looking out the window doors into a large backyard lined with trees.

"It's got a clearing just beyond those trees that's perfect for a Quidditch pitch," Harry said casually. "There isn't a pond to swim in, but we could build one. Muggles do it all the time."

She was silent a little longer, her mind automatically going over each of the rooms and what they would do to them.

"How did you know?" she asked, finally turning to him. "How did you know what I needed? I wasn't sure I knew myself."

"I had some help," he admitted. "I was so frustrated after the last one. But then I had a talk with your mum, and she explained a few things to me. I gave the agent a picture of the Burrow and told him to find something similar."

She smiled at him then, and Harry decided that her smile went perfectly with this house.

He stepped closer and slid an arm around her waist, his forehead coming down to rest on hers. "It needs a lot of work," he pointed out.

"I know," she said. "But wizards build faster than muggles. And I love it, Harry. This is our house, I can feel it."

"Thank Merlin," he murmured just before he kissed her.

"Thank you for finding it," she said when the kiss ended.

"Your mum said you wanted a place like the Burrow because it was full of love and laughter," Harry said. "Can you see this place being like that?"

"Oh, yeah," Ginny breathed her eyes fastened on his lips. "And I think we should start right now, don't you?"

Harry's eyes widened when she pushed him into the nearest wall and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Here? Now? We don't even own the house yet, Ginny!"

"We've been looking for a damn house for over two months, Harry," she reminded him, "and we haven't shagged in two days. Now get those bloody pants off."

Harry watched, fascinated as she whipped off her own shirt and began working on her trousers. It _had_ been two days…what had he been thinking?

"Right," He pulled out his wand and conjured a blanket on the floor before dropping his wand and quickly unfastening his belt.

"We have to hurry," he told her while pushing his trousers down. "The agent is going to meet us here in an hour."

"Shite," Ginny cursed. "You could have told me that before." She lay down on the blanket, and propped herself up on her elbows as she watched him undress.

"And stop you? I don't think so." He shucked off his last sock and threw it into a dusty corner of the room. He didn't care where it landed.

He joined her on the blanket, crawling over her until she lay back completely. She wound her arms around his neck and arched into him as he placed soft kisses down her throat.

After several long minutes that had Ginny gasping and Harry panting, he pulled back to look in her eyes.

"This is our home," he said breathlessly. "Our _home_, Ginny. I - I've never had a home that felt like a home before this."

"Where was home then, Harry? Before this?" 

"It was you," he answered, his hips surging forward. "It was always with you. With you, near you, inside you…"

Ginny's breath caught and her back bowed off the floor. "Harry, please! I need-"

"I know, Fury. I need you too."

THE END

BUT NOT REALLY


	32. And it Ended With a Family, Pt1

Epilogue 1

_Three years after the defeat of Voldemort:_

Harry Potter listened to his wife retch and gag in the bathroom connected to their bedroom. It was ridiculously early in the morning, way to early to be puking one's guts up in any case, and he felt so sorry for her that he almost forgot to pretend to be asleep. He heard the toilet flush and the water running down the sink before Ginny padded silently back into the bedroom and climbed back into bed.

Harry waited until he was sure she'd fallen back asleep before rolling over to his side and staring down at her. It wasn't that he didn't want to help her when she was feeling sick; it was that he'd been trying to help her for the last week until she'd snapped at him to stop hovering over her. The past two mornings he'd stayed in bed while she'd rushed to the bathroom; he never mentioned that he heard her and when she never said anything at breakfast, he hadn't brought it up either.

It was more of a waiting game than anything else. Ginny insisted she had a stomach bug, and Harry knew better than to contradict her. His hand skimmed over the top of the sheet until it rested lightly on the flat plane of Ginny's belly.

He wondered how long it would take before she would accept what he suspected.

Ron Weasley whistled cheerfully as he walked from the kitchen to the living room of the comfortable cottage he and Hermione shared far outside Ottery St. Catchpole. They'd found the place just before they married and although it was a muggle house, they had immediately begun turning it into a wizarding home. The cottage was connected to the Floo network and just far enough away from his parent's house.

He'd just sat down with a bag of crisps and one of Hermione's muggle drinks when the fireplace flared a bright green and his best friend tumbled out onto the polished wood floors.

"Ron! Quick!" Harry sounded panicked as he scrambled to his feet. Ron stood up quickly, knocking over the fizzy drink and pulling out his wand.

"What is it? A Death Eater?" He looked around as if a black-robed figure would appear at any moment.

"Worse." Harry's face was pale beneath his flushed skin and his eyes were wild. "It's Ginny."

Ron froze in the process of shutting down the fireplace. "Ginny? What's happened?"

Harry gulped. "She's livid. Absolutely livid with me! You have to hide me! She's gone crazy, you have no idea! Here -" he dashed for the sofa and grabbed one end of it. "Help me turn this over, we'll use it as a shield when she Floos in."

Despite the fact that Ginny was his only sister, and he owed her a certain amount of loyalty, Ron rushed to help Harry turn the sofa over. It was because she was his sister that he knew Harry needed his help.

"Wait a minute," he said, his eyes narrowing. "What did you do?" If Harry had hurt Ginny, he was going to shove him right back through the fireplace and let her have at him.

Harry stopped in the midst of lifting the sofa over. A wide, silly grin came over his face.

"I got her pregnant."

Ron let his corner of the sofa fall back on the floor with a thump. "Really?" He smiled at Harry. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded. "Yep. I've known for days, but she wouldn't listen. Kept insisting it was the stomach bug. She finally went to the Healer this morning, and he confirmed it. She came home and just started shouting at me. When she pulled out her wand I got the hell out of there."

Ron crossed the space between them, and they hugged each other, laughing and slapping each other on the back.

"That's great, mate! Congratulations! But…wait…why is she so mad? Doesn't she want to be pregnant?"

Harry shook his head. "No. It was an accident. I promised her when we got married that we'd wait at least five years before I even mentioned the subject of children. It's only been three -" he broke off and looked towards the fireplace in horror when it flared green.

"Quick," he said urgently. "Behind the sofa." He dived behind the furniture and crouched down, reaching up with one hand to pull Ron to the ground.

"This is ridiculous," Ron grumped. "S'not like she's going to kill the father of her baby. What's she so mad for anyway?"

Harry would have answered, but Ginny arrived just then. She was an impressive sight of wild anger as she stepped out of the fireplace, her eyes and wand sweeping the room for signs of her husband. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the slightly askew sofa and with a wave of her wand, the sofa exploded in two, both sides breaking away to reveal Ron and Harry, their arms covering their heads.

Ron looked up in shock, and when he saw what she had done to the sofa, he shouted, "You're gonna pay for that!"

"That's what you get for hiding _him_," she pointed with her wand towards Harry who lifted his head and smiled sheepishly at her.

"Hi, Fury."

"Don't you 'Hi Fury' me!" Ginny spat at him. "How dare you run away when I'm trying to curse you!"

Harry stood up, his hands held up in supplication. "You were trying to curse me, what did you expect me to do?" he said reasonably. "Last time I let you curse me I couldn't sit down for three days."

Her face darkened and her wand twitched, but Harry went on hurriedly. "Ginny, you need to calm down. It's not good for the baby!"

At the word 'baby,' Ginny's face paled, and she shrieked in outrage. She hurled curses at him, but she was so angry they went wild, and he and Ron were able to dodge the spells.

"- can't believe you got me pregnant!" She was shouting. "Just couldn't keep it in your trousers could you? Oh! I'm so mad at you, I could just -" she fired another curse at him that looked like it might have been illegal, but Harry managed to dive out of the way. The curse hit a nearby lamp and the lamp disintegrated.

"Stop ruining my stuff!" Ron bellowed at his sister. "Calm down, Ginny!"

"Calm down! Calm down," she screamed at him. She pointed a finger at her husband. "Do you know what this git did to me?"

"Yes," Ron shot back. "And I think its bloody brilliant. You'll make great parents."

"That's…that's not the point!" Ginny spluttered. "He tricked me!"

"I did not," Harry protested. "It was an accident. I think it happened that night when you wore that -"

"No need to figure all that out," Ron interrupted hastily. "The point is that my sister is going to have a baby!" He smiled broadly at her. "What're you hoping for? A boy or a girl?"

Ginny stared at him, and then screamed at the ceiling in frustration. She threw her wand across the room where it hit the wall with a thunk and fell to the floor in a spray of red sparks. She collapsed in the nearest armchair, her hands fisted in her long, red hair and put her head between her knees, breathing heavily to calm down.

Ron chanced at look at Harry and when he saw the tender expression on his face, he pocketed his wand and walked out of the room, leaving them to work things out in private.

Harry hesitated, not sure how to approach her. Finally, he walked over and knelt in front of her. He laid a hand on the back of her head and leaned down to speak in her ear.

"What are you so afraid of?"

Ginny lifted her head, and Harry could see the beginnings of tears swimming in them.

"I'm going to be a terrible mother, Harry." She stated it matter-of-factly, like she'd already accepted it.

"You are not," he said, shocked. "You're going to be a great mum."

Ginny laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "Yeah, right. It's going to be awful. I can't cook, I barely clean, I curse worse than my brothers…I'm -- I'm not _nurturing_, Harry. What do I know about babies?"

"Probably more than I do," Harry answered. "But we'll learn together. And who cares if you can't cook or our house is messy. The kid won't know the difference."

"I expect you'll have to curb the cursing, though," he added. "I'll help you."

She snorted and stood up to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace. "You're nearly as bad as I am."

"So we'll both work on it." He sat back on his heels. "It really was an accident, you know. I didn't do it on purpose." He tried to keep the smug look off his face, but failed.

"Harry Potter!" Ginny said in astonishment. "Are you proud of yourself for this!?"

He shrugged, but was unable to keep the grin off his face. "Sorry, Fury, I can't help it. Guess I don't know my own strength." He looked down at his crotch. "Good job, boys."

"I hope our son inherits my virility," he told his wife. "Although not until he's much older of course."

Ginny didn't know whether to laugh or slap him. "This has nothing to do with your virility," she hissed at him. "We just forgot the bloody birth control charm."

Harry shrugged. "You tell it your way, I'll tell it mine."

Ginny huffed and went back to her pacing. "What are we going to do, Harry? We're not prepared for a baby! The house is a bloody mess for one. We've live like kids! No regular dinnertimes, we have sex all over the bleeding place, we walk around in our underwear. We're gone a lot -" she stopped pacing to stare at him. "Merlin, Harry! I can't work while I'm pregnant! What am I going to do! We've got that job in China coming up!"

Harry and Ginny were freelance curse breakers. Neither one of them wanted to work for the Ministry of Magic; so they had gone into business for themselves after Ginny had taken her NEWTs. It didn't take long for Harry and Ginny Potter to make a name for themselves in the curse-breaking world. Gringotts used them on especially tough cases and countries all over the world employed them. They both loved their job; they travelled all the time and, quite frankly, they were damn good at what they did.

"You can still come with me," Harry said gently. "You just won't be able to get near the site. But you can do all sorts of research back at our hotel."

He stood up and walked slowly towards her. "We'll both learn to cook, we can buy whatever we need for a baby and I daresay we can learn to confine all sex to the bedroom…with silencing charms," he added as afterthought. He took both of her hands in his.

"It won't be easy, I know. Particularly as I love shagging you on the kitchen table." He saw a tiny grin appear at that and was encouraged.

"We're probably going to make some mistakes, but we'll accept them and move on. Our lives are going to be completely different from now on, but, Ginny," he put a hand on her stomach and looked into her eyes, "he's just going to make it better. We're having a _baby_, a child, a little bit of you and little bit of me. Something _we made together_ because we love each other so much."

A single tear ran down her face, and Harry wiped it away with his thumb. "I can't wait to meet him, you know? I wonder what he'll look like, what he'll be interested in, what his laugh sounds like…" He sank to his knees again and pulled her loose trousers down past her hips so he could press a soft kiss to her still flat abdomen.

"How - how do you know it's going to be a boy?" she said shakily. One hand rested lightly on his hair while the other wiped her eyes.

"Please," Harry scoffed. "I'm a man. We make boy babies. Besides, what else could my first-born be?"

"Chauvinist pig," Ginny muttered, sounding a bit more like herself.

"But someday I'd like to have a daughter," he said, softly stroking her skin. "A daughter with bright red hair and big brown eyes just like her mum."

"You think there will be more?" She asked incredulously, her hand fisting in his hair.

Harry wisely let the question go and nuzzled her belly with his nose. "I think he'll be a seeker, don't you?"

"I'm not sure he'll be a "he" at all," Ginny retorted. "The Healer said he's the size of a bean right now."

"A bean," Harry murmured. "That's amazing." He kissed her stomach again.

"Hullo, Bean," he said directly to her lower abdomen. "Come to attention, please. This is your father speaking. Listen, I need you to be a really easy baby okay? Your mum and I are really new at this, and we don't want to mess you up too bad. So if you're easy to take care of that would really help us out."

Ginny chuckled in spite of the fear she felt pressing on her heart.

"I think Bean will have natural flying abilities, don't you?" Harry looked up at her, his green eyes shining with love and excitement.

She smiled faintly and ran a hand through his hair. "So you really want this? You're really ready for a baby?"

Harry hugged her closer. "I'm beyond ready, Gin." He kissed her again. "I've always wanted a family," he kissed her yet again, "and you gave me one." He looked up at her. "I'll never be able to thank you enough for that, Fury."

"Just love me," she whispered. "And change Bean's dirty nappies."

Harry let out a joyous laugh and stood up, gathering her in her arms. "Okay." He kissed her on the mouth then, and Ginny let herself be swept away in the feel and taste of him.

They were so wrapped up in each other they didn't hear the front door open. Hermione Weasley walked into her home, slowing when she saw the mess in the living room. Spell burns covered the walls, her couch and a lamp were in pieces, and Harry and Ginny were making out in the centre of the room.

"What on earth is going on here?" she gasped.

Harry and Ginny pulled away from each other, dazed expressions on their faces. Ginny's jeans were halfway down her backside, and she looked like she had been crying.

"Hi, Hermione!" Harry said cheerfully. "Don't worry about the mess, we'll fix it."

"But what happened?" Hermione persisted. "Is Ron okay?" She looked around frantically, searching the room for her husband's remains.

"He's fine," Ginny said. "Oi! Ron! You can come out now."

Ron peeked his head around the corner. "Are you sure? Where's Ginny's wand?"

Harry laughed and reaching down, tugged Ginny's pants back up to her waist. He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together. "It's fine. It's still in the corner. C'mon, let's tell Hermione the good news."

He smiled broadly at his friend and looked back at his wife. "Ginny's pregnant."

"Oh. Oh!" Hermione gasped. "Oh, Ginny -" She ran across the room and threw her arms around Ginny. She hugged her friend tightly, swaying back and forth until Ginny looked like she was going to vomit again with the motion.

Carefully disentangling herself from Hermione, Ginny smiled bravely. "Thanks. It was a bit of a shock."

"Oh, this is just so wonderful!"

"But wait," Hermione frowned, "why does it look like someone had a duel in here?"

Ginny flushed. "Okay, it was a BIG shock. I…um…sort of attacked Harry. You know, for getting me pregnant."

"Oh, Ginny, you didn't -" Hermione's voice trailed off and then she gave a weird snort and clapped her hand over her mouth. Her shoulders shook and it took a few seconds to realize that she was laughing.

"Hermione, are you laughing?!"

Hermione removed her hand and tried to get her giggles under control. "Sorry, it's just, well…its funny isn't it?" She looked at Ron. "Harry gets Ginny, _his wife_, pregnant and she attacks him?!"

The corners of Ron's mouth twitched. "She chased him all the way through the Floo to our house."

"This is almost as funny as when he wouldn't rescue her from Voldemort unless she agreed to marry him," Hermione said, her eyes twinkling merrily.

Ron sniggered. "Remember that time two years ago they both got drunk at Fred's wedding-"

"Okay!" Harry interrupted loudly. "If you'll excuse us, we're going to go home now." He moved Ginny towards the fireplace and threw in a pinch of Floo powder.

"Oh, wait." Ginny held out her hand and her wand flew into her palm. Muttering a few spells underneath her breath, the living room was soon restored to its former glory.

"Impressive." Hermione whistled. "Thanks, Gin." She kissed both of them on the cheek goodbye and moved back to stand next to Ron.

As Harry and Ginny Flooed away, both of them were quite sure they heard their best friends erupt in laughter.

As soon as they arrived at home, Harry scooped Ginny up in his arms and headed for the staircase.

"Where are we going?" She lifted an eyebrow at him.

He looked at her like she was crazy. "To shag of course. What else did you think we'd be doing to celebrate?"

"We're celebrating me being pregnant?"

"We're celebrating you carrying my child," he corrected her. "We have to celebrate Bean's life. And it's not like you can drink in your condition."

They reached their bedroom, and he set her gently on her feet, his hands immediately going to her waist where he deftly unfastened the button and zipper.

"Harry?" she asked as he slid her trousers and knickers down her legs and kneeled down to pull them over her feet, "we're not really going to call the baby Bean, are we?"

His reply was lost as his mouth quickly became occupied. Ginny let her head drop back as she gasped his name.

"Okay, we can call him whatever you want."

Ginny was on the verge of slugging someone. Her mother, her brothers, her father, her husband…no one was safe.

If one more person put their hand on her belly she was going to loose her freaking mind.

"Stop!" she grabbed her brother's wrist and twisted it away. "The next person who touches my belly is going to find themselves minus a vital body part."

George's mouth dropped open. "I just wanted to say hi to my nephew!"

"Well you don't have to touch my stomach to do it," she snapped at him.

"Harry!" George hollered. "Come over and tame your wife!"

From across the room, Harry would have laughed at the suggestion that he could ever tame Ginny, but one look at her angry face and he stifled it, deciding that laughter might push her over the edge.

"What's wrong?" He stepped away from Ron and Hermione to stand beside Ginny.

"Make him leave me alone, Harry! Make them all leave me alone!"

"What did he do?"

"He touched my belly." Ginny glared at George as if he'd done something much worse. "Make him stop."

"George, don't touch her belly," Harry commanded. "Ginny, don't you think you're overreacting a bit? It's natural to want to touch it. He can't help it."

"Regardless," she said icily. "If he touches it again, you're going to find me wearing a rather intriguing pair of testicle-shaped earrings."

"Merlin's pants, Ginny!" George paled. "Don't joke about something like that."

He cupped himself protectively and backed away slowly.

"I wasn't joking."

"Er…message received and understood."

"I don't think I've ever seen George scared like that," Harry said amusedly to his wife as they watched George speed away.

"I'll take that as a compliment." She took a sip of his pumpkin juice and handed it back to him. "Why does everyone want to touch Bean anyway? Can't they wait until he gets here?"

Harry tentatively put his hand on her belly, not certain she wouldn't hex him — even though it was his baby too — and rubbed in small circles.

"It's just so bloody amazing, Gin," he murmured, his eyes fixed on her swollen stomach. "I mean, besides the fact that you're -"

"If you say as 'big as a house,' I'm going make myself a necklace to go along with those earrings," she threatened.

Harry cleared his throat. "Well…I wasn't going to say 'as big as a house,' exactly…I was just going to point out that you've -" he stopped abruptly.

"You know what, never mind, there's no way I can get out of this."

He was going to say that she looked like she had a beach ball underneath her robes, but that probably wasn't much better. He thought Ginny looked beautiful pregnan,t but she didn't believe him. It was true though, and her tiny frame looked like it could barely support such a weight; she'd barely gained any weight except for Bean.

"That's probably a wise decision."

Ginny yawned, covering her mouth with one hand. "I know this baby shower is for Bean, but do you think everyone would mind if I went upstairs for a nap? He kept me up all night swinging on my ribs."

Harry kissed her temple. "No, of course not. Go ahead, I'll explain."

Ginny smiled gratefully and snuck out the side door while Harry went to explain to their family and friends why his nearly nine month pregnant wife was missing. By the time she made it up the stairs, she was huffing.

"Look at what you've done to me," she said to Bean. "I can barely make it up the stairs. Why don't you just come out now — there can't be any more room in there for you."

Actually, Ginny wasn't looking forward to the labour at all and was perfectly happy putting it off as long as possible. The very idea of pushing Bean out….well, it terrified her. Her mother thought she'd gone crazy to insist that Harry be in the delivery room with her, but Ginny told her there was no reason why Harry shouldn't suffer too.

She toed off her shoes and lay down on their bed with a grateful sigh. She struggled to turn over to her side and told herself that she was just going to close her eyes for a few minutes.

When she woke, it was dark outside and the house was quiet. She ran her hands over her belly and grimaced, realizing why she'd woken up. The muscles on her belly were contracting, stretching so tight across Bean she thought for sure the skin would break. With a start, Ginny sat up and realized that sometime during her nap, her water had broken.

She was in labour.

"Harry!" she shouted. She waited to hear his footsteps on the stairs, but it was a big house, and she doubted he could hear her if he was on the other side of the house.

"Harry!" She swung her legs over the side of the bed, waiting for his response.

Grumbling, she grabbed her wand and cast her Patronus. "I'm in bloody labour, you bloody git so get your arse up here."

She sent the spell off and rubbed her tight belly. "Ouch!" She glared down at Bean. "Is that really necessary?"

"Ginny!" Harry Apparated in the doorway. His eyes were wide and scared. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not bloody okay! I'm in effing labour!"

"Shite." Harry rushed over to help her stand up from the bed. He grimaced when he saw the wet stain on the blankets.

"Oh, stuff it," she snapped. "Things are about to get a lot more disgusting. You might as well get used to it."

"Ginny!" Hermione ran into the room, followed by Ron. "Can I help?"

"Grab her bag," Harry ordered. "It's downstairs in the hall closet. Ron, help me get her downstairs."

"I can walk just fine — oh, _oh_, _oh_ shite that hurts." Ginny stopped and grabbed her belly, breathing heavily through the pain. Harry went to support, but she pushed him away.

"Don't touch me. You'll just make it worse," she panted. "In fact, never touch me again."

"Well," Ron drawled as he followed a hovering Harry and his sister out the door. "I can already see this is going to be fun."

Molly and Arthur burst into the maternity ward at St. Mungo's hospital. They'd been asleep when Hermione Flooed them and had taken the time to contact Charlie in Romania before Flooing to the hospital.

"How is she?" asked an anxious Molly. "How's my baby?"

Ron turned away from talking to Fred and George and jerked his thumb at a door behind me. "You tell me."

A sudden shout and an enraged scream came from the room followed by the low murmur of a soothing voice. A large crash was heard and then, "Ginny! Stop it!"

"They've been going at it for over two hours," Ron said dryly. "I think she might be trying to kill him."

Molly handed her purse to her husband and rolled up her sleeves, a determined look on her face. "I'm going in there," she said. "Wish me luck."

"Your mother is a very brave woman," Arthur told his son as Molly pushed the door open cautiously.

A bellow wracked with pain echoed in the waiting room when Molly opened the door and Ginny's brothers winced.

"I can't take it," they heard their sister pleading. "Please, Harry, get him out."

"I know, Fury. I know," Harry's voice broke. "But I can't do anything about it. The Healer will be back with the pain potion soon."

"What do you mean 'you know'?" What could you possibly know?" Ginny went from pleading to screaming in less than two seconds. "I don't see Bean trying to push his way out of your penis!"

"That's just wrong," Fred groaned, clapping his hands over his ears.

"Hi!" Molly said brightly, closing the door behind her. She walked over to take her daughter's hand.

"Ginny, dear, how are you feeling?"

"Oh, just peachy," Ginny said wearily. "I think I'd like to do this every day."

"Sarcasm seems to be her favourite method of torture," Harry said dryly. His eyes blazed as he looked at his wife.

"Be nice to your mother."

"I'm not speaking to you," Ginny grumped. "Not until you give me back my wand."

"Sorry, Fury. You're not getting it back. Not until Bean is at least three months old."

"Wise move," Molly said out of the corner of her mouth.

"When I first went into labour with Bill, I gave your dad a pig's tail," she told Ginny.

"Don't give her any ideas," Harry scowled. "She's already hexed me twice and stunned me once. The Healer had to revive me."

Ginny started to snicker, but another contraction hit and her lips went white with the pain. Her mother gripped her hand and mopped her brow with a wet cloth.

"I don't think I'm going to make it, mum," Ginny said, closing her eyes and laying back on the pillows. "I've only been at it for two hours; this is awful."

"Childbirth isn't supposed to be easy," her mother said sympathetically. "But when it's over, you'll have a lovely baby that will have made all this worthwhile."

"How did you do this seven times?" Ginny groaned.

"Like I said, there's a baby at the end. You soon forget the pain."

Ginny looked at her in disbelief. "Forget? Not bloody likely."

Her mother winced. "Now might be a good time to work on cleaning up your language. You're about to be a mother."

Ginny paled. "Oh Merlin, you're right. I'm completely incapable of doing this. Harry!" Her eyes sought her husband's. "Harry, I can't do this!"

Harry eyed her speculatively; Molly imagined he was trying to decide how to deal with her — there were several routes he could take. Finally he sat on the edge of the bed and took her face in his hands.

"Now you listen to me, Ginny Potter. I think you are the most wonderful and bravest person I know; if anyone can do this, it's you. That's our son in there — our _son_. He's our baby, _our_ child; we made him, together. With all we've been through to get to this point, you're just going to give up now?"

Her lower lip trembled. Molly decided she hadn't seen that look on her daughter's face since she was six.

"Harry," Ginny whispered, her big brown eyes locked on his as he held her face in his hands. "What if I bullocks it up? What if I mess him up because I'm messed up?"

"Oh, Ginny." Harry closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together. "You're not messed up — you never were. Nothing was ever wrong with you and Voldemort isn't here anymore. And even if he was, you would still be a great mum."

"Look," he opened his eyes and scooted closer. "All that matters is that I love you and you love me and we're going to love Bean. I already love him, don't you?"

"With everything that's inside of me," she said shakily. "That's what scares me so much."

"Me too," he admitted. "But we took a chance on loving each other and that worked out. I think we can take this chance too. You and I — we spent a good portion of our lives trying to protect ourselves from being hurt, but that's no way to live and you know it."

"And Ginny," he put a hand on her stomach. "Bean's already here. The choice has already been made. You can't back out now."

"I don't want to back out," she cried miserably. "I love him."

"He's going to love _you_," Harry said fiercely. "Although I don't see how he could possibly love you as much as I do."

"Oh, Harry." Ginny sighed and Harry twisted his body around her large belly in order to hug her.

He held her until he heard a sniffle from the other side of the room and looked up in surprise to see his mother-in-law dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"That was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Molly sighed. "I'm so happy for you both. You're going to be wonderful parents."

"Thanks, mum," Harry grinned at her and disentangled himself from his wife.

"Here we go!" A portly man dressed in green robes entered the room with a steaming potion in a beaker that he presented to Ginny with a flourish.

"Your pain potion. Better drink it down now. You've still got a ways to go before you need to push."

Ginny sighed in relief and gulped the potion down. The effect was nearly instantaneous, and she lay back on her pillows, her eyes closing in weariness.

"I'm just going to take a little nap," she murmured. "Wake me when Bean gets here. No need to wake me up for it, you understand."

"I think you'll have to be awake for that."

"When I wake up, we're going to discuss you giving me back my wand." She cracked one eye open at Harry.

"Not a chance."

Harry could only stand beside Ginny's hospital bed and gape in amazement. Sure he was holding her hand, supporting her back and occasionally murmuring words of encouragement, but those all paled in comparison to what she was doing. His wife was so…so…so _valiant_. Her face was shining with perspiration, her body weary and wracked with pain and still she kept a hold on her knees to gather enough force to push out their son.

Their son. His son. Harry's son.

It was over before he knew it; later he would remember Ginny giving a great sob of relief and joy as she finally birthed their child and then it was all a blur until someone placed a small bundle wrapped in a blue blanket in his arms.

Harry slowly peeled back the blanket and got his first good look at the miracle he and Ginny had created.

Their son.

"Wow," he whispered. All other words failed him as held his son for the first time. He sat down in a nearby chair in a daze.

"Look at him, Gin," he said, his voice breaking. "He's beautiful."

"Is he okay?" she asked wearily from the bed where the nurses were still cleaning her up. "Ten fingers and ten toes?"

Harry checked, amazed at how tiny everything was. "All present and accounted for," he told her. "Ginny…"

He looked up at her. "Thank you."

She smiled and it was the most joyous smile he'd ever seen on her face. "I'd say it was my pleasure but I'd be lying."

"You were amazing," he swallowed heavily. "My whole life, I've never seen anything like that. Thank you, Fury. Thank you for my son."

It hit him then that he had a family. He, Harry Potter — whose only notion of family were an Aunt and Uncle who'd never wanted him and an adopted one he'd often wished he was really a part of before he'd married into it. Suddenly, he had his own family. He looked back down at Bean.

"I promise I'll try to be a proper dad," he whispered. "But I'm new at it so we'll just take it slowly, okay?"

"We can't keep calling him Bean forever you know," Ginny said, yawning. "What are we going to name him?"

Harry considered the baby in his arms. "He's got my hair, Gin."

"Poor kid," she laughed.

"Let's name him after our fathers," she said suddenly.

"Arthur James?"

"James Arthur," she decided. "There's already one Arthur in the family."

"James Arthur Potter," Harry repeated. "I like it."

"Are you ready to hold him?"

Ginny looked nervous, but she slowly propped herself up on the pillows and held out her arms.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Harry asked as he gave James to his mother.

"He looks like a shrivelled prune."

Harry laughed and joined her on the bed. "He does kind of. I expect he'll grow out of it though."

"Hey," Ginny whispered, hoarsely. Her eyes burned with tears before she could stop them.

"Hey, you. Remember me? I'm the one who was screaming before."

James opened his eyes, actually opened his eyes, Ginny realized with burst of excitement. He waved his fists around.

She looked up at Harry to see if he noticed. He was grinning widely, and his eyes were glistening.

Ginny watched as her son stopped fussing and studied his mother with tired blue eyes. Then his tiny mouth was working, parting and closing in a tiny 'o'.

"Look at him," Ginny breathed, awe struck. "Just bloody look at him."

Had she and Harry created this perfect little person? Even his eyelashes were perfect, curved and soft. Ginny looked at his nose. Okay, so that's Harry's nose, she decided with a smile. But that mouth is mine, she thought with a surge of possessive pride.

Then the baby was whimpering again. "What did I do wrong?" she asked, panicked. "Am I holding him too tightly?"

"Nothing, he's probably just hungry and knows sustenance is nearby," the Healer replied with a wry smile.

Ginny looked around for a bottle, but Harry cleared his throat and pointedly stared at her swollen breasts.

"Oh man," she groaned with a grimace. Her mother had assured her that she would want to breast-feed, but frankly, it sounded kind of gross.

"Do I have to?"

"Ginny, come on. That's what they're there for," Harry reminded her.

She narrowed her eyes at her husband. "I'll remind you of that later."

He blushed sheepishly.

Harry turned to leave, but Ginny stopped him.

"Where are going?"

He shrugged. "I just thought you might want some privacy."

"Hell no. You have to stay in case I - ouch!" Ginny lurched forward as James practically bit down on her nipple.

"If he'd had teeth that would have been lethal. Oh...oh that's so weird."

Harry stood rooted in place for a few seconds, watching in disbelief as the baby who, up until this very moment had been a pretty inanimate bundle of soft skin, attacked Ginny's nipple with a ferocity that almost made him jealous.

"Wh-Wait!" Ginny called out nervously as the nurse opened up the door to leave, "What happens when he's finished? I mean how do I know if I'm giving him too much or not enough? Merlin, where's my mother?"

"He'll let you know. Don't forget to burp him like we discussed, all right?"

"Right," Ginny grimaced, worried she was going to screw up and pat James' back too hard. "Maybe you can do that part, Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry asked, his eyes still fixated on her breasts.

"I'm thinking maybe Bean would be a good name after all."

"Okay," he said absently, not lifting his eyes once.

Ginny sighed. No help on that end, she mused.

"Sorry, James, looks like you're stuck with Mummy for a while."

"Who the bloody hell died in here?" Harry exclaimed, taking a step back as he pushed open the door to James' nursery. Ginny was crouched down, rifling through the bottom drawer of the dresser.

"That's Eau D'James," she replied, her voice distorted by the wand she'd stuck in her mouth.

Harry walked over to the crib and found James, his feet up in the air, a towel beneath him and a nappy filled with the stinky mess.

"Hell, James, you are much too small to be capable of a smell like that." He shuddered, hovering over the baby.

"Don't curse," Ginny said absentmindedly, straightening with a fresh nappy in her hand.

"This kid thinks I'm an all night dairy bar," she said. "And I swear he looks up at me sometimes and he's thinking, 'who the hell is this amateur?'"

"Don't curse."

Ginny rolled her eyes and swung the clean nappy over her shoulder.

"So did you take a break just to come check out your son's poop?" She drew in the edges of the dirty nappy and handed it to Harry.

He made a face, but grabbed the filthy cloth and, keeping it a healthy distance away from him, dropped it in the magical wastebasket that automatically vanished dirty nappies.

"Only your child could make a disgusting mess like that."

"Oh, when he laughed at your funny faces he was _your_ son, he soils his nappy and all of a sudden he's _my _son?"

Harry shrugged. "I think that's fair."

"Git." Ginny finished fastening the fresh nappy on James' and lifted him in her arms. "I'm taking him to see Mum while you finish your paperwork."

Paperwork was the worst part of being curse breakers — even freelance curse breakers had to file papers with the Ministry detailing which curses had been used and what had been done to break them. Harry and Ginny always held a few pieces of information back though; they didn't want to risk the chance of anyone repeating the curses.

"You'll be back before supper?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, it's just that today is the six-week mark." He looked at her pointedly and her eyes went wide.

"Merlin, I almost forgot!"

"That hurts, Gin, that really hurts." He looked pained. Harry had been marking off the days until they were allowed to shag again on a calendar in his office. They'd been so busy and tired with the new baby that Ginny barely even had time to think about it.

"I'll be home, I promise. And I'll feed James and then put him down." She stepped closer and kissed him on the mouth.

Harry fisted a hand in her hair when she would have pulled back and kept her close while he plundered her mouth, despite James' fussy sounds.

"Wow," she said, when he'd finished.

"Just because we're both tired and rundown doesn't mean I don't find you unbelievably sexy," He said in a husky voice. "Come back soon."

Harry stopped moving when he heard the first unmistakably familiar wail of his son.

Ginny stared up at him warily. "Wait, wait," she panted.

They were silent except for the quick, shaky breaths in the heavy darkness.

Soon, Harry began moving again, a little faster now.

"Bloody hell…" Ginny whimpered. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, urging him on. "Hurry. Hell. Hurry before -"

"Waaaaaaa," came the tiny wail.

"Shit," Ginny moaned. They both stopped moving again, holding their breath. After a few moments, there was more blessed silence.

"It's okay, he's gone back to sleep," Ginny assured him, her voice cracking with desperate need.

Harry nuzzled Ginny's neck, tasting the salty tang of passionate sweat before closing his mouth over hers, teasing her with his tongue and moving his hips again. Then she was arching beneath him.

"Love you," he moaned into her hair. "Ginny…bloody hell…love you…so-"

"Nahh, nahhh deeeeeee,"

"Dammit!" Harry groaned in defeat, sagging against Ginny.

"Ow!" she cried lifting her head.

"Sorry," Harry said moving his elbow off her hair.

Ginny tightened her thighs around his hips, but as if to taunt him, James let out another wail.

"Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"Oh for pete's sakes," Harry rolled off of Ginny and reached over the bed for his boxers.

"He'll settle back down," Ginny reached for his arm, trying to drag him back.

"Nah, forget it. The moment's gone." He switched on the lamp on the night table.

"I'll get him. Maybe I can get him back to sleep."

"Never mind. I got him. Maybe he'll spit up on me and finish off this night on the perfect note." He set his feet on the cool floor, stomping them for a brief moment to get the blood circulation away from more swollen parts of his anatomy and back into his tingling toes.

Ginny let out a brief snort, which she quickly quelled at Harry's glare.

When James looked up at his father from his crib at the other end of the room, he stopped his half hearted grumbles and cries and smiled.

"Heee!" he burst out, kicking up his feet in excitement. He waved his arms around.

"James, daddy loves you very much. But daddy was trying to shag mommy and if you're over here crying, daddy can't get off."

"Ohhh," James said in a disturbingly sympathetic tone while he played with his toes.

"Harry!" Ginny laughed. "Don't tell him that."

Harry turned and narrowed his eyes at his wife. "Daddy is horny. Daddy is not responsible for the words that are coming out of his mouth."

"Baaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"Oh no, you don't. Why should I pick you up, you human arousal killer?"

James began to whimper, his tiny mouth quivering.

Harry felt his chest tighten at the forlorn expression on his little face.

"Harry, just pick him up," Ginny insisted.

"Now hang on, you don't want him to get spoiled, do you? He can't think that we're going to just do whatever he wants. Wait — never mind, look who I'm talking to," Harry remembered, rolling his eyes.

"I don't get whatever I want," she pointed out. "For example, you're over there instead of here."

"Ginny," Harry faced his wife while James' whimper threatened to turn into an all out squall behind him. "It's time he slept in his own room. He can't keep sleeping with us."

Ginny sighed and fell back against the pillows. "I know," she admitted. "I just can't stand the thought of him in a separate room. What if he gets lonely?"

"He'll be asleep, Fury. He probably won't even notice anything — except that Mummy and Daddy don't wake him up anymore. And his room is right next door, it's not like he's moving out."

Ginny threw back her covers and joined him at James' bedside. He'd already cried himself back to sleep and he looked remarkably sweet and peaceful at this moment — instead of the irritating nuisance he'd been about five minutes ago.

Harry put his fingers to his lips and grabbed Ginny's hand to lead her out of the room.

"Where are we going?" she whispered when they made it to the hallway.

Harry bent down and scooped her over his shoulder. She squeaked and they both stilled, waiting for James to wake up again. When he didn't, Harry turned his head, bit her hip as punishment and walked across the hallway to one of the guest rooms. 

"We're going to finish what we started." Harry tossed her in the centre of the bed and jumped on top of her.

NOT THE END


	33. And it Ended With a Family, Pt2

A/N: I've been reluctant to post this chapter because it means that this fanfic is over. This is the last chapter! I can't believe it. What a ride! I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it – I know there were some rough times, and so I hope the ending is satisfactory enough to make up for some of the angst! I want to thank all of you who read and reviewed so diligently. I know people say this all the time, but faithful readers really do make the difference! I loved hearing your thoughts as each chapter was posted. I also want to once again thank my beta, Indie, whose advice and encouragement made all the difference. She spent hours (and hours!) reading and correcting my mistakes before it was ever posted, and I can't thank her enough.

That being said, I hope you enjoy this final glimpse of Harry and Ginny.

Epilogue 2

_Ten years after the defeat of Voldemort:_

Charlie Weasley appeared at the edge of his parents' property in England for the first time in six months. He was both happy and nervous to be home as this was the first time he was bringing home a girl. Charlie was a notorious bachelor. Although his brothers and sister had all married and turned out grandchildren faster than Mrs. Weasley could ask for them, he had remained single. He'd just never found anyone who was worth the time and effort; until Emily Watson had shown up on the dragon reserve in Romania over a year ago. He'd asked her to marry him just two weeks ago.

"Nervous?" he asked as they began the trek towards the Burrow. Even though the war had been over for ten years, Arthur and Molly still kept strict wards up to ward off sightseers and other nasties. Charlie could get in, but Emily couldn't, and he chose to walk with her.

He took Emily's hand and squeezed it.

"A little," she admitted. "Do you think they'll like me?"

"Sure," he smiled broadly at her. "Mum'll be thrilled, and Fred and George will probably prank you."

"Or," he amended, "their children probably will."

"Will it bother them that I'm from America?"

"I think they'll barely notice," he said, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

"Charlie!"

"Uh oh, mum's seen us," Charlie said. "Brace yourself."

Emily took his warning quite literally. A plump, cheerful looking woman with shockingly bright red hair, despite her apparent age, rushed out the back door and threw her arms around her son.

"It's wonderful to have you home!"

"Mum," Charlie said, hugging the shorter woman tightly before stepping back. "This is Emily. My fiancé."

"Oh!" Molly Weasley gasped. "She's just lovely! You're American, is that right dear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please, call me Molly, or mum," she said dismissively. "Everyone else does." She turned back to yell through the open kitchen window.

"Arthur! Charlie and Emily are here!" She turned back to Emily. "Welcome to the family, dear. We've been looking forward to meeting you. You're a dragon trainer too?"

"Yes, ma - Molly. Although I'm actually more of a dragon vet." Emily smiled up at Charlie. "Charlie's the best though. I've never seen anyone work with dragons like he can."

"A vet, dear? How interesting…"

Charlie watched in amusement as his chattering mother led Emily off to a set of picnic tables where his brothers were sitting. She introduced her while pouring her a glass of lemonade. Any thought of watching from afar vanished when he saw Fred hand her a plate of suspiciously wrapped candies.

"Don't eat that!" he barked just as Emily was reaching for one. "You'll turn into a bird or something."

Fred scowled at his older brother. "Killjoy. She's new. I'm just trying to welcome her to the family."

"Yeah," George said. "It's a rite of passage, really. She's going to be a Weasley. Go on, Emily, take one."

Emily looked around at the amusement on her future brother-in-law's faces and decided that taking the plunge into her future family was now or never. Boldly, she took a candy, unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth. As soon as she took the first bite, there was an explosion of green smoke and when it cleared, Emily's lovely brown hair had been changed to a garish orange.

"There!" Fred said cheerily. "Now she's ready to be a Weasley."

"Gits," Charlie said, taking the seat next to his now red-headed fiancé. "Change her back."

"It'll wear off in an hour," George said. "Here, take a look." He conjured a mirror and held up for Emily.

Emily examined herself critically in the mirror. "It's brilliant! I love it! How on earth did you do that?"

"Magic," George said simply. He tapped the side of his nose and winked at her.

"Charlie!"

Charlie's head snapped up and a broad grin spread across his face. "Ginny!"

Ah, the sister. Charlie was fairly close with his sister, but Emily had never met her. She knew Ginny Weasley had married Harry Potter, but had been amazed when Charlie acted like it was no big deal. Not five minutes ago, her future mother-in-law had unceremoniously introduced her to the famous Harry Potter who had smiled politely at her. He seemed so normal, sitting there with his brother-in-laws, laughing and joking. He had the most beautiful green eyes and a happy, contented expression.

Ginny walked across the lawn towards them and for a moment, Emily was struck by her simple beauty. Long, glossy, glorious red hair was swept back into a messy ponytail; large brown eyes smiled at her brother and her creamy apricot skin almost glowed in the summer sun. Ginny was shorter than she'd expected but she moved with a grace that Emily envied. She was dressed extremely casually in a pale yellow tank top, a jean skirt with frayed edges and wore thongs on her feet – not at all like Emily would have expected the wife of a famous wizard to dress. But there was something about the way she carried herself that made others sit up and take notice; Emily suspected it had little to do with who her husband was. She carried what looked like a naked child's bottom on her hip and her tank top was wrinkled up a little bit to reveal her perfectly flat, taut stomach. _This_ was the woman who'd had _four_ children?

Charlie stood up to hug his sister. When the thing on Ginny's hip shrieked he pulled back and looked down at it in amusement.

"Here," Ginny said to Harry. "Take _your_ daughter." She dumped a completely nude toddler on Harry's lap and scowled down at them both. Harry fumbled with the child, eventually turning her upright to reveal a small girl with rosy, chubby cheeks, bright red hair fastened into two pigtails on top of her head, and a wide grin on her face. She looked at her father with matching green eyes.

"Daddy, I nekid!" The little girl squealed.

"I see that," Harry answered. Emily thought he looked like he was trying not to laugh as he looked up at his wife.

"What happened to her clothes?"

"She wished them away," Ginny said. "I left her for two seconds, and when I went back, she was streaking through the living room!"

Harry smiled at his daughter. "Do you like being naked, Lily-snitch?"

The little girl nodded solemnly. "Mummy said a ba' worwd."

"What did she say," Harry asked curiously.

"Bwuggering bwoody 'ell," Lily answered before giggling and burying her face in her father's shoulder.

"Take care of your daughter, Harry. I can't handle this right now. James has snuck off to fly brooms even though he knows he's not allowed to for another year. Molly and her cousin got into Mum's flour bin, and Sirius threw a temper tantrum when I wouldn't let him eat a Canary Cream." She threw an exasperated look down at a mini-Harry that had followed her out of the back door and climbed onto the picnic table on the other side of Harry.

"Do you really want to eat a Canary Cream?" Harry asked his son.

Sirius nodded excitedly.

"You know you'll turn into a bird," he warned.

"It'll be cool, Dad!"

Harry turned pleading eyes to Ginny. "What's it gonna hurt? So he's a bird for few minutes."

"Harry," Ginny's eyes narrowed. "I know you did not just usurp my authority in front of our children.

Emily watched as Harry Potter, defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, cringed under his wife's glare.

"Sorry, Sirius. Your mum's right. Wait until you're older."

"Aw, nuts," Sirius whined.

Ginny sighed in defeat. "Fine. You're right. I was overreacting. Fred, hand the kid a Canary Cream." She looked pointedly at her brother. "And that had better be ALL you hand him."

"One Canary Cream coming up," Fred said jovially. He selected a wrapped candy from the tray on the table and handed it ceremoniously to his nephew.

"Cool! Thanks, Mum! Thanks, Dad!" Sirius promptly unwrapped the candy and popped it in his mouth. In a few seconds there was a loud pop and a small yellow bird stood on the bench.

"Bwoody 'ell!" Lily shouted.

Charlie's brothers erupted into laughter, and Harry groaned.

"You've corrupted another one, Gin," Bill said.

Charlie said in an undertone to Emily, "Harry and Ginny's kids have the worst potty mouths b/c Ginny has a hard time controlling her language when she gets upset. It's pretty funny."

"Does she get upset a lot?" Emily whispered back.

"She seems to go through phases," Charlie answered with a wink.

Harry sat Lily bare-bumed on the picnic table in front of him and with a wave of his wand, conjured on a yellow sundress to match her mum's shirt. Lily scowled at him.

"Sorry, baby girl," he said apologetically. "But you have to wear clothes at grandmum's house."

"Bwugger," his daughter muttered and her uncles laughed again.

"How old is she?" Emily asked.

"Two," Ginny answered, "going on 47."

"Oi, Ginny," Charlie said. "You're in rare form today. What's got your knickers into a twist?"

A broad grin broke over Harry's face. "She's pregnant," he announced.

Ginny glared at her husband. "I am not."

"Sorry, Fury, but you've got that glow."

"I do not."

"Yes, you do," Ron piped up. "I bet you'd glow in the dark."

"Shut up, Ron." 

"Don't you want to be pregnant?" Emily asked uncertainly.

Harry laughed. "She never does in the beginning, but then she gets used to it." He smiled fondly at Ginny. "Fury's a great mum."

"Harry calls Ginny 'Fury,'" Charlie whispered in her ear. "It's been his nickname for her since they were at school."

"I can see why," Emily murmured.

"I am not pregnant, you git," Ginny said. "Four kids are enough. I'm done."

"Ah, ah, ah," Harry singsonged. "We made a deal. Three years ago, you promised me a whole Quidditch team if I bought you an Extreme Firebolt. You owe me three more. I still need a pair of beaters and a keeper."

"You exchanged having children for a racing broom," Emily asked incredulously.

"It's a really good broom," Ron said apologetically.

"The best," Ginny added. She turned back to Harry. "I am NOT pregnant. Stop saying that!"

"So the morning nausea is because of what?"

"I ate some bad prawns." Ginny put her hands on her hips.

Harry whispered something to Lily who promptly squealed "Baby! Baby, Mummy! Baby in dere?" She pointed a chubby finger at her mother's stomach and looked up at her mum.

Ginny groaned. "No, you little nugget. There is no baby in Mummy's belly."

Harry snagged his wife around the waist with his arm and pulled her close. "Face it, Gin," he said, pressing a smacking kiss to her flat stomach. "You've got Bean Number Five in there."

"Harry and Ginny always call their babies "Bean" until they're born," Charlie explained in Emily's ear. "No one knows why. They're sort of weird."

"Baby!" Lily shrieked. "Bwoody baby!"

"I am NOT having a baby," Ginny bellowed. "I just got done breastfeeding that one four months ago!" She gestured at Lily who smiled brilliantly back at her.

"What should we call him, fellas?" Harry turned back to his brother-in-laws, his arm still around his wife's slim hips.

"Barney," Fred said. "I've always wanted a Barney in the family."

"Name him after our Uncle Farton," Ron suggested. Harry laughed.

"What do you think, Lily?" Harry asked. "What should we call your new brother?"

Lily pondered the question seriously. "Bwopsy," she finally said.

"Do you know it's a boy?" Emily directed her question to Harry.

"Well -"

"Are you listening to me?" Ginny interrupted. "I am not pregnant!! Stop talking about it!"

"Only one way to find out," George suggested. "Katie's inside. She can do a spell and see."

"Katie is George's wife," Charlie told Emily. "She's a Healer."

"Fine." Ginny stuck her nose in the air and walked back into the house.

Harry watched her go and turned back to the table with a glint in his eyes.

"She really pregnant, mate?" Ron asked.

"Oh yeah." Harry nodded. "She's always so reluctant to admit it though. She never even knows until I tell her. It's great fun. Gets her all wound up."

Two small boys ran up to the table just then. One of them was obviously Harry's, Emily thought. He had glasses and black messy hair and his mother's eyes.

"James," Harry's spoke sternly to his son. "Were you flying?"

"No, Dad," James' eyes went wide with innocence. His father continued to look at him, and Emily could see the defeat rise in his small shoulders. "Well, just a bit. But only on Jack's baby broom."

"It doesn't matter," Harry said firmly. "You know the rules. When we get home, you'll be punished."

"Aw, man." James slumped in the seat next to his cousin Jack, who was obviously Ron's son.

Emily turned to him. "Hi, I'm Emily."

"I'm James. I'm six." He stuck out a small hand for her to shake and Emily took it, charmed.

"Do you like flying?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, but my parents won't let me fly until I'm older. I go up with my mum and dad sometimes though. It's brilliant!"

"You're gonna be a Seeker aren't you, sport?" Charlie ruffled his nephew's hair although Emily decided it didn't make any messier than it had been.

James nodded again. "Dad's been showing me some moves for when I go to Hogwarts!"

"Your parents are both good fliers, then?"

"Oh yeah, they're the best. Dad was the youngest Seeker in a century when he went to Hogwarts." James smiled proudly at his father who was chatting with Ron and trying to keep a firm grip on a squirming Lily.

"I like your mum," Emily said. "She's really pretty."

"Yeah," he said. "Daddy thinks so too. He's always telling her how pretty she is. Sometimes, it makes her blush."

"Really?" Charlie was amused.

"My parents are disgusting," James informed Emily solemnly.

The whole table stopped to listen. Emily fought back a smile.

"Why do you say that?"

James made a face. "They're always kissing and hugging and making weird noises."

"James!" Harry said quickly. "Stop talking about your parents. She doesn't want to know that."

"Well, you are," the boy retorted. "It's gross." He turned back to Emily. "Kissing girls is gross."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It is not, as I keep trying to tell you -"

"One time, I was over at Jack's house and when I Flooed home, Mummy and Daddy were on the couch and Daddy had his head up Mummy's skirt," James told Emily. "He said they were just playing a game, but I think it was more kissing stuff."

Charlie and his brothers stared open-mouthed at James. Emily turned bright red.

"James! You will cease talking and go play elsewhere immediately!" Harry looked at his son horrified and avoided his brother-in-law's eyes. 

After James and Jack ran off to play with the chickens, silence rang at the table. There was snort, then a snicker and soon the whole table was laughing uproariously while Harry buried his face in his daughter's small body. She patted the back of his head consolingly with her small, chubby hands.

"I think you've scarred the boy for life," Bill said through his chuckles.

"When Ginny finds out he said that she's going to blow her top!" Ron laughed. He stopped laughing suddenly. "Will you take a picture?"

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Emily stammered. "I had no idea…I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry about it," Harry assured her. "It's not your fault, it's James. He knows better than to talk about family stuff. I'm sorry if he embarrassed you."

"Well -" Emily began, but a sudden angry yell from inside the house interrupted her.

"And that's my Fury," Harry said, breaking into another large grin. "I guess Katie confirmed my earlier diagnosis." He stood up, propping Lily up on his hip. "Excuse me, gentlemen. She'll get all worked up and it's not good for Bean."

"We'll watch her," Charlie offered, and Harry handed Lily over with a grateful smile.

"Thanks, bro."

"Bwoody 'ell Daddy!" Lily called after him.

Harry walked into the Burrow's kitchen to find his mother-in-law drying her eyes with the corner of her apron and his eldest daughter covered in flour on the floor with her partner-in-crime, Bill's daughter Victoria.

"Oh, Harry," Molly said excitedly. "Another baby! Congratulations!"

"Thanks, Mum," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "She just figure it out?"

Molly nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. "No one can do denial quite like my Ginny."

Harry winked at his mother-in-law. "I told her this morning, but she wouldn't listen."

Ginny burst into the kitchen just then and stopped short when she saw Harry. "Come to gloat?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Harry grinned at her. "Nope." He strode over to her and bent over, grabbing her by the knees and tossing her face-first over his shoulder.

"Harry! Put me down!" Ginny shrieked.

"Not gonna happen, Fury." He turned to Molly. "Mum, would you mind keeping an eye out?"

"No, of course not," she waved her hands at them. "Go, go."

Harry looked pointedly at his wide-eyed daughter on the floor. "I'll deal with you when I get back," he said, gesturing to the mess she'd made. "You and Victoria have to clean this up all by yourselves, got it?"

"Yes, Daddy," said Molly in a small voice.

"Harry, if you don't put me down, this second-" Ginny threatened.

"Oh stop," Harry said, smacking her lightly on the bum. He started walking up the stairs.

"Harry! Put me down! You'll hurt Bean!"

"Don't be ridiculous," he said when they reached the first landing. "Besides, I'd put you down if I thought you'd stay."

"Where are we going?"

"To celebrate Bean," Harry answered.

"Here?! In my parents' house?" Ginny blanched at the thought which was really difficult to do considering Harry had her upside down and all the blood was rushing to her head.

"Don't worry," Harry said dismissively. "They all expect it by now."

"Oh, because Harry and Ginny are always so randy," Ginny muttered.

Harry pushed open the door to Ginny's old bedroom and carried her inside. He tossed her on the double bed and went to shut and lock door. He pulled out his wand and cast a few silencing charms.

Ginny sat up with a huff and scooted to the edge of the bed as Harry kneeled on the floor in front of her.

"C'mere," he said. He wrapped his arms around his wife's waist and pressed his face into her stomach. He took a deep breath and was still for moment.

"Thank you," he whispered finally. "Thank you for another one."

Ginny felt her ire melting, and she ran a hand through his hair. It wasn't that she didn't want another baby; it was just that it was always such a surprise. It irked her that Harry could always tell that she was pregnant before she could — it was her body and her baby. How could such a change be taking place without her knowledge? She really thought four would have been enough but now that Bean Number Five existed, she couldn't imagine going through life with only four children.

"You're welcome," she sighed. "I suppose you really are going to hold me to that deal aren't you?"

Harry lifted his head and smirked at her. "Of course. No takebacks. You didn't seriously think I'd let you out of it, did you?"

"Fine," she sighed again. "It really is an excellent broom."

Harry stood up and pushed Ginny back onto the bed and crawled up after her. He smoothed up her shirt and unbuttoned the fly on her jean skirt. Spreading aside the fabric, he placed a soft kiss on her lower abdomen.

"Hullo, Bean," he said softly. He stroked the skin with the tips of his fingers. "This is your dad. Try to not to give your mum too much trouble okay?" He kissed the skin again reached up to nuzzle her belly button with his nose. Ginny giggled.

"I love when you're pregnant, Gin." One hand peeled back more of the fabric while his mouth travelled over to nibble on her hipbone. "You're so beautiful."

"Beautiful because I swell up like a balloon and get fat ankles?" Ginny ran her fingers through his hair.

"Beautiful because you glow. Beautiful because you are carrying our child," he corrected.

"Plus," he scooted up and pulled her shirt up further, exposing her bra-covered breasts, "there's these."

Ginny watched in amusement as Harry popped the front clasp on her bra and cupped her breasts with glittering eyes.

"They always get bigger, Gin," he said, his eyes still fastened on her breasts. "It's amazing. I mean, they're perfect now and just when I think they can't get any more perfect, you get pregnant and wham, they're even better!"

Ginny's laugh turned into a gasp when Harry's mouth closed over the tip of one. "Harry," she said weakly. "We can't do this now. The kids are downstairs and my entire family is here."

"Sorry, Gin." He didn't sound sorry at all as his mouth travelled over to the other breast. "It's tradition to celebrate Bean's new life this way. Don't want to break tradition while you're pregnant. Who knows what the kid'll turn out like if we did?"

Harry's hand slid down her taut stomach and began tugging on the waistband of her skirt. "C'mon, Fury, you know you want to."

Well of course she wanted to, Ginny thought. Harry's mouth had only gotten better with age, and the things he'd learned to do with his hands…Merlin!

"S'not the first time we've done this here," he reminded her, his mouth doing wicked things to the skin just below her breasts.

"Yes but then…oh…then everyone didn't know…oh, Harry." Ginny arched into her husband's hand and any resistance she had to the idea of making love while her children and family were downstairs flew out the window. She pushed him back and whipped off her shirt and bra, kicking her skirt off the rest of the way.

"C'mon, Harry," she said, scooting back up on the bed and holding out her arms. "Let's celebrate life."

And they did. Twice.

THE ABSOLUTE END


End file.
